


bad idea

by caramelcaramelcaramel



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Abusive Parents, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Senior year, Smut, also mj doesn't know peter's spider-man, but it's like, hi i keep giving my characters sad backstories, important to the plot, they both have feelings for each other but have "meaningless" sex and its Big Upsetti, this fic is no different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 87,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelcaramelcaramel/pseuds/caramelcaramelcaramel
Summary: “Hey,” I said. “How was the hangover?”He looked up, smiling a little at me. “Not fun. Yours?”I laughed nervously. “Rough. I actually, um, had this…thought. And it’s crazy, and stupid, and I totally blame my hangover for it, but, well, what if we hooked up?” I was jittery with nerves.Peter coughed. “What?”“Well, I just…I noticed you and I had the same answer to that question during Never Have I Ever, and I mean, I don’t want my first real hookup to be an absolute mess.” Man, if he agreed, it was going to kill me inside. “Anyways, I thought it’d be one of those, um, mutually beneficial arrangements.”I watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. I couldn’t read the look on his face.He swallowed. “I, um, sure.”I blinked. “Okay. Um. My place, eight tonight?”“Yeah. Sounds good.”“See you then, Parker.”I turned and walked away before I could say something stupid.Oh my god, I was clinically insane.ORPeter and MJ casually hook up despite being absolutely, hopelessly in love with each other.





	1. something bout you

_MJ_

“Who wants to do shots?” Liz shouted.

“MJ does!” Betty shouted back.

“No, I don’t,” I said, pointedly showing her my still half-full Solo cup.

“How many times did you promise me you’d loosen up tonight?”

I sighed. “I’m working on it.”

“Work harder. Liz, pass the tequila.”

I gave up, letting Betty pour an unreasonable amount of booze into my cup. I glanced around the room.

“Looking for Peter?” she said, just barely loud enough for me to hear over the party music.

“Not at all,” I lied, lifting my cup to my lips. God, tequila tasted awful.

Betty poured some tequila into her own cup, then passed the bottle back to Liz.

I caught Peter’s eye from across the room, and quickly looked away.

Lifting my cup to my lips, I gulped some tequila down. It burned all the way down my throat, and the feeling didn’t fade.

But hey, maybe I could drown my stupid, stupid butterflies with alcohol.

“Ooh, you’re blushing, Jones,” Betty teased.

“Shut it, Brant.”

She rolled her eyes. “Denial ain’t gonna get you a spot in his Instagram bio.”

I shoved her shoulder. “I don’t want a spot in his Instagram bio. I’m his decathlon captain, we need a professional relationship.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Cindy screamed, “Never Have I Ever in the living room!”

I grabbed Betty’s hand and dragged her in the direction of Liz’s living room, just to change the subject. To my dismay, I realized Peter and Ned were already sitting in the living room, waiting for Cindy to organize everything. Betty dragged me over to them, and plopped down next to Ned. I sat down next to her, trying not to look at Peter. Looking at Peter made my heartrate jump, and I didn’t need to hear my pulse in my ears right now.

Once a circle had formed, Cindy sat down. I put my drink down in front of me, like everyone else, and held up my hands, fingers splayed out.

“Okay, I’ll start, then I’ll give it to Liz and we’ll go to the right,” Cindy announced. “Never have I ever…smoked a cigarette.”

A few of the kids took a drink and lowered a finger.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” Liz added with a shrug. A few kids, some of the same ones from before, took a drink and lowered a finger.

I didn’t know the next kids name, but he said, “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

Against my better judgement, I glanced at Peter. He was picking up his cup.

I picked up mine, too. It hadn’t been a real kiss, I guess, but Cindy and I had kissed in a game of truth or dare last month.

“Never have I ever stolen from my parents.”

Definitely hadn’t done that. That’d get me killed.

A few people were picking up their cups, though. Mostly the white kids.

“Never have I ever…been blackout drunk.”

I took a drink.

“MJ!” Ned gasped, feigning surprise. As if he hadn’t been there.

“Never have I ever had sex,” someone said.

It didn’t come as a surprise to me that Peter, Ned, and Betty all left their drinks alone.

I did, too.

Peter shot me a weird look, but didn’t say anything.

“Never have I ever gotten to second base.”

I didn’t touch my drink, and neither did Peter. Ned and Betty did, though, shooting soft smiles at each other.

Gross.

“Never have I ever gotten into a fist fight.”

“Never have I ever sworn at a teacher.”

“Never have I ever driven drunk.”

“Never have I ever met an Avenger.”

By the end of the game, half of the room was wasted, which I suppose was the goal of the game. Some freshman ended up winning, but by then I wasn’t paying attention. Betty and Ned were being all…coupley. I went back into the kitchen, scavenging the fridge for something to snack on.

“Since when do you like party games?”

I jumped at Peter’s voice, accidentally slamming the fridge shut. “You scared me.”

“Clearly.”

I reopened the fridge.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Oh, I just joined so Betty would shut up about getting me drunk.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

I closed the fridge, defeated, and turned to look at him. “Well, I have had way more tequila tonight than I ever wanted to put in my body ever.”

He laughed. He had such a beautiful laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, Ned made me do a couple vodka shots, and nothing has ever tasted worse.”

I held out my cup. “Wanna put your money where your mouth is?”

He laughed again, softer this time, and took my cup, taking a sip. His face scrunched up as he swallowed. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yep.”

He passed my cup back to me. “What memory are you trying to drown with that…poison?”

I stared at him. I couldn’t tell him I was trying to forget my feelings for him. “Oh, you know, embarrassing moments from seventh grade, the time my waiter told me to enjoy my meal and I said ‘you too’, every moment of my existence, really,” I said.

He grinned. “Well, I’ll stick to vodka for that, thank you very much.”

“Fair enough.”

Liz bounced over to us. “MJ, I gotta introduce you to this guy-”

“Liz, I’m okay-”

“Nope, you’re coming with me.” She grabbed my wrist and started pulling me. I gave Peter an apologetic shrug, and he just smiled at me.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture, Liz-”

“Then appreciate it,” she told me firmly. “You gotta stop waiting around for someone to fall into your lap.”

“I don’t need someone to fall into my lap. I don’t need a relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, still tugging me down a hallway. “You keep staring at Ned and Betty like a kicked puppy. You seem _lonely_.”

“I’m not lonely!”

She stopped and turned to face me. “Okay. Tell me exactly who you want a relationship with, and I won’t introduce you.”

“What?”

“Sophomore MJ would’ve been totally open to talking to someone for a bit, so the only reason Senior MJ wouldn’t is if she has her eye on somebody. So, spill. Who is it?”

Oh, no. This was bad. I couldn’t tell her it was Peter, not after what had happened at homecoming a couple years ago.

“Uh, it’s just one of my neighbours.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. Peter and May lived two floors below me and my dad.

Liz rolled her eyes. “Lemme guess, I wouldn’t know him?”

I shook my head.

“Fine. I won’t introduce you.”

“Thank you, Liz.”

She glanced at my now empty cup. “Okay, let’s get some more alcohol in you, and then you owe me a dance.”

I let her drag me back to the kitchen to refill my cup.

_Peter_

Ned and I were sitting on the floor in the living room while Cindy organized the game. I watched MJ drag Betty into the room. Betty’s face lit up when she saw Ned, and she ran over and sat down with him, meaning MJ sat down next to Betty.

For a moment, I considered moving to sit with MJ, but thought better of it. She’d probably ask me questions, and she always knew when I was lying, and then I’d have to tell her I just wanted to be close to her.

Alcohol was not doing anything for my overthinking problem.

The game started, and I found myself paying way too much attention to what MJ was doing. She was blinking slower than usual, slowed down by whatever alcohol was in her system.

“Never have I ever had sex.”

_Don’t look over, Peter, that makes you a creep._

But I glanced, and her cup stayed on the ground in front of her.

Huh. That was…unexpected.

I tried not to think about it, but I couldn’t help it.

What about that guy from last year? Miles? He competed against us in a decathlon, and then everyday for months, MJ and Miles were hanging out or texting or _something_. I’d just assumed they were together. Were they not? Were they and they just never-

I was definitely being a creep.

The game ended, and MJ picked up her cup and headed into the kitchen, curls bouncing a little as she walked.

_Don’t follow her, don’t follow her, don’t follow her-_

“Ned?” I heard myself saying. “I’ll be right back.”

I glanced over, only to see him and Betty kissing. I gave up, heading to the kitchen.

MJ was standing in front of an open fridge, so I went over.

 _Think of something to say, you idiot_.

“Since when do you like party games?”

She jumped, slamming the fridge shut by accident. “You scared me.”

“Clearly.” _That was a terrible attempt at…what were you trying to achieve there, exactly, Peter? Asshole vibes?_

She reopened the fridge.

“You didn’t answer the question,” I said, trying to be gentle about it, maybe try to negate the jerk vibes I had just thrown off.

“Oh, I just joined so Betty would shut up about getting me drunk.”

“And how did that work out for you?” I asked.

She turned towards me, closing the fridge door. God, she was gorgeous, eyes big and sparkly as she looked at me. “Well, I have had way more tequila tonight than I ever wanted to put in my body ever.”

I laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, Ned made me do a couple vodka shots, and nothing has ever tasted worse.”

She held out her cup, the strong smell of alcohol wafting towards me. “Wanna put your money where your mouth is?”

I laughed nervously, and took the cup. I took a sip, trying not to show how much it burned on my face, but I couldn’t help but react. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yep.”

I gave the cup back to her, trying to ignore the burning in my throat. “What memory are you trying to drown with that…poison?”

She stared blankly at me for a moment, then seemed to shake that off and started talking. “Oh, you know, embarrassing moments from seventh grade, the time my waiter told me to enjoy my meal and I said ‘you too’, every moment of my existence, really.”

I smiled at her, more or less involuntarily. “Well, I’ll stick to vodka for that, thank you very much.”

“Fair enough.”

Liz ran over, face flushed from alcohol. I dropped my gaze, trying to block her out. It was just…awkward.

“MJ, I gotta introduce you to this guy-”

“Liz, I’m okay-”

“Nope, you’re coming with me.” Liz grabbed MJ’s wrist and started to pull her away. MJ gave me a shrug, looking apologetic. I smiled at her, trying to let her off the hook.

I could hear her arguing with Liz a little before they disappeared into the crowd.

I found a beer and poured it into my cup, deciding maybe drowning my feelings was the best course of action, at least for tonight. Maybe it’d suck a little less.

“Hey, Peter.” I turned to see Harry Osborn standing behind me.

“Hey!”

He held out his hand to do that weird bro-body-check thing, so I took it and did the weird body check.

“It’s been a while, how’s May?”

“She’s good.”

“And MJ?” he asked knowingly. I could feel my cheeks getting warm.

“She’s…good.”

“Still haven’t made a move on her?”

I shrugged. “No.”

“Dude, come on,” Harry sighed.

“What?” I protested. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’ve been head over heels for her since, what, end of sophomore year?”

I didn’t really have a counter to that. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So tell her that.”

I shook my head. “She’s friends with Liz.”

“So?” Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Liz doesn’t own you, or her. MJ’s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions.”

I groaned, taking a sip from my cup. “I don’t wanna start anything, though. Everyone’s happy right now, the last thing I need to do is ruin our friendship and make things weird in decathlon and class and everything.”

Harry tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at me. “Are you happy?”

“I’m fine, Harry,” I assured him.

“No, that’s not what I asked. Are you happy?”

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

“She’d make you happy and you know it.”

“I can’t rely on MJ to make me happy.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’d be a lot happier if you didn’t spend all of your time pining after her. Or stalking that Morales dude’s Instagram.”

“I don’t stalk his Instagram,” I argued.

“Whatever, Peter. You know I’m right about her.”

Ned and Betty came into the kitchen to refill their drinks, both of them laughing and kind of leaning into each other.

Harry nudged my shoulder. “I just wanna see you happy, dude,” he said, “like they are.”

I sighed. “I know. I’ll just get over it and find someone else.” Even just saying that stung a little.

“For the record, I think she’d be a fool to say no to you.”

“That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t.”

Suddenly, the music got louder, and I realized there was a dance floor forming. Right at the centre of it all were Liz and MJ, both dancing their hearts out. MJ had her eyes closed, and looked totally lost in the music, a small smile on her lips, hair bouncing around her.

“Go dance,” Harry encouraged, pushing me.

“No, I can’t dance.”

“Then finish your drink and go surprise yourself.”

I knew Harry, had known him for roughly ten years now. He wasn’t gonna take no for an answer tonight. I downed the rest of my beer.

“You’re coming with me.”

He shrugged, following me onto the dance floor.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of MJ. She looked so happy, dancing with Liz, both of them screaming the lyrics to the song that was playing and smiling and laughing. She had the most beautiful smile.

I danced around the floor a couple times, then gave up. I wasn’t about to cut in and ruin her good time. I left the dance floor and walked outside to call Mr. Stark for a ride.

It rang twice before he answered.

“Hey, kiddo, how’s the party?”

“Kinda boring, I guess,” I said, realizing how slurred my speech was.

“Do you want me to send Happy now, then?” he asked.

“Only if it’s not inconvenient.”

There was a short pause. “He’s on his way. Did MJ show up with a date, is that why you sound kind of upset?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just…lonely, I guess. Ned and Betty are doing their own thing, MJ and Liz are doing their own thing…doesn’t feel like there’s any space for me here.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until Happy gets there?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Anytime, kid. Say hi to your aunt for me when you get home.”

 _Click_.

I sat down on the steps outside Liz’s house. Funny to think that the last time I was here, it ended with her dad getting arrested.

I heard the front door open, so I turned around. MJ walked out, closing the door gently behind her.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a little husky from singing. It was…weirdly attractive.

“Hi.”

“You looked a little upset when you left.” She sat down next to me on the steps.

I shrugged. “Tired, I guess. And, I mean, being third-wheeled by Betty and Ned isn’t as fun as it looks,” I joked.

She laughed. “Tell me about it.”

Her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol, her eyes not as wide and bright as usual.

“You, uh, don’t have to stay out here with me,” I told her.

“I know, but it’s nice out here. Cool breeze. I was overheating in there, anyways.”

There was a long silence. It was kind of pleasant. I did, however, find myself hoping she’d put her head on my shoulder, but it didn’t happen.

“Are you waiting for a ride, or just taking a break?”

“Happy’s coming to get me.”

“Happy, like, the guy from your internship who used to brush you off all the time?”

I nodded.

“And he’s picking you up?”

“Mr. Stark sent him.”

She nodded. “That’s cool of him.”

“Yeah, he gave me a whole speech about ‘being allowed to have fun responsibly’, and I was trying not to bring up every single news article ever about him.”

She laughed, covering her mouth when she did. “Sounds about right.”

I realized there were goosebumps showing up on her arms. “You look cold, do you want my hoodie?” I offered, already starting to take it off.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll go back in when Happy picks you up.”

I turned my face away so she couldn’t see the smile on my face. She wanted to spend time with me. That was a good thing.

The front door opened again, and two drunk teenagers stumbled out, kissing each other clumsily.

“Hey, assholes, this isn’t a bedroom,” MJ snapped.

They pulled apart, looking at us, and then went back inside.

I tried not to think about how badly I wanted to kiss her. Not as messily or…harshly. I wanted so bad to just…cup her face and kiss her softly.

But she was my captain, and she was Liz’s friend, so I couldn’t do that.

“Hey, what’s up, Parker? You look sad.”

“Oh,” I said, realizing I was being more expressive than I meant to, “sorry. I’m not- I’m not sad, I’m just…”

“Tired?”

I nodded. “Tired.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re going home early, then. Gotta make sure you’re rested and everything for decathlon on Monday.”

I laughed. “It’s so nice to be cared for,” I joked.

“Yeah, well, where would I be without my best guy?”

I looked at her, our eyes locking for a moment. There was warm porchlight illuminating her face, casting gentle shadows. Her eyes were so, so sparkly.

And then there was a honk from the street. I jumped a little, looking over. Happy had pulled up. He honked again, and rolled down the window.

“Hey, kid, get in.”

“Right.”

I stood up, looking at MJ.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

She smiled up at me. “See you Monday.”

I walked down the steps and over to the car, glancing at MJ one more time before I got in.

“So, how bad is it?”

“I don’t really remember how many drinks I had,” I admitted.

“So window down, got it.”

We started to drive, and I watched out the window at the scenery. Big houses and big trees that’d shade the sidewalk during the day. There was wind coming in through the window, rustling my hair. It was kind of calming.

It wasn’t a long drive back to my apartment. Happy dropped me off out front.

“You good to walk upstairs on your own?” he asked as I got out of the car.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I assured him, only slurring a little. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem, kid. Drink some water before bed.”

“I will. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He waited until I got into the lobby, and then drove off.

I managed to get to the elevator without stumbling. I got up to my floor, and then got out of the elevator. I stumbled a couple times on my way to my door, but didn’t fall over. I fumbled with the key, but still managed to get in.

May was sitting on the couch, reading something on the tablet Mr. Stark had given her.

“Hey, Peter, you’re home early.”

I shrugged. “It was boring.” I went to the kitchen, stiffly and slowly, trying not to stumble. She knew I’d been drinking, but I didn’t want to make it obvious that was I was way more drunk than I should’ve been. I got myself a glass of cold water, drank it way too fast for comfort, and then refilled it.

“You okay, hon?”

“Yeah.”

“You seem kind of upset.”

I shrugged again. “I’m tired. And, I don’t know, ever since Ned and Betty started dating, I’ve been the odd one out, and tonight was just more of that.”

“Aw, honey.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay. Come here.”

I crossed over to the couch, and leaned over. She kissed my forehead.

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I went to my bedroom, set down my water, stripped down to my boxers, and collapsed on the bed.

_MJ_

It was the hangover talking. It was a terrible, terrible idea.

And how would I even bring that up?

_“Hey, Peter, I noticed you’ve never had sex, and neither have I, so do you wanna bang, but, like, as friends?”_

I couldn’t say that to him, that’d be ridiculous.

God, I was so glad my dad was on a trip this weekend. If I had to deal with him yelling at me today, my head would explode.

_“Hey, Peter, I’m sure you’re worried about your first hookup, because you tend to overthink every single thing. Why don’t you practice on me, but, like, totally platonically?”_

I was insane.

\---

And then, somehow, Monday morning, I found myself marching to Peter’s locker. He was alone, thank goodness.

“Hey,” I said. “How was the hangover?”

He looked up, smiling a little at me. “Not fun. Yours?”

I laughed nervously. “Rough. I actually, um, had this…thought. And it’s crazy, and stupid, and I totally blame my hangover for it, but, well, what if we hooked up?” I was jittery with nerves.

Peter coughed. “What?”

“Well, I just…I noticed you and I had the same answer to that question during Never Have I Ever, and I mean, I don’t want my first _real_ hookup to be an absolute mess.” Man, if he agreed, it was going to kill me inside. “Anyways, I thought it’d be one of those, um, mutually beneficial arrangements.”

I watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. I couldn’t read the look on his face.

He swallowed. “I, um, sure.”

I blinked. “Okay. Um. My place, eight tonight?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

“See you then, Parker.”

I turned and walked away before I could say something stupid.

Oh my god, I was clinically insane.

_Peter_

“Hey, how was the hangover?”

I looked up, and there was MJ. “Not fun. Yours?”

She straightened up a little, readjusting her backpack strap on her shoulder, laughing a little. “Rough. I actually, um, had this…thought. And it’s crazy, and stupid, and I totally blame my hangover for it, but, well, what if we hooked up?”

I balked, coughing. “What?”

My head was racing. She wanted to hook up. With _me_. Peter Benjamin Parker. She wanted us, alone in a room-

“Well, I just…I noticed you and I had the same answer to that question during Never Have I Ever, and I mean, I don’t want my first _real_ hookup to be an absolute mess.” Man, if I agreed to this, it was going to kill me inside. “Anyways, I thought it’d be one of those, um, mutually beneficial arrangements.”

Beneficial.

I imagined having an excuse to kiss her, run my fingers through her hair, tangle up with her and sleep peacefully.

She was watching me, waiting for an answer. I swallowed. “I, um, sure.”

“Okay. Um. My place, eight tonight?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

“See you then, Parker.”

She walked away. I was glad I didn’t have the chance to say something stupid.

But holy cow, I was going to have a heart attack.


	2. take my breath and never let it go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is legit like 12 pages worth of smut so buckle up and enjoy ;)

_MJ_

What the fuck was I supposed to wear?

I went through my closet three or four times, never settling on anything. Funnily enough, Sex Ed never taught me what to wear to casually hook up with the love of your life.

Okay, if I were Peter, what would be the most fun to take off of me?

I was still drawing a blank.

Could I call Liz about this? Was that reasonable? She would know, right? And I didn’t have to tell her it was Peter.

No, that was a bad idea.

Fuck it, I’d take a shower and figure it out after.

I got into the shower, and did most excessive deep clean of my life. By the time I got out, I was as smooth as a baby’s bottom, squeaky clean, and smelled like the almond milk and honey soap from The Body Shop.

How bad would it be if I just wore sweats? It was just a casual thing, anyways. He wasn’t expecting to see me open the door in lacy underwear, right?

Actually, lacy underwear was maybe a good idea.

I found a matching bra and panties, both navy blue and lacy as hell, then threw on some sweats over top.

Yeah, that was fine.

I still had a couple hours before Peter, came over, so I brought my homework into the living room and started to get some work done.

_Peter_

What does one wear to something like this?

I couldn’t wear something…casual, right? This was a formal-ish type thing.

Although, it was a casual hook up.

But what if I got there and she was wearing a dress and I showed up in a t-shirt and jeans?

Okay, maybe I’d just…dress up a little. Just to be safe.

I couldn’t really ask May for advice on this, either. How do you tell your caregiver who’s probably very much uncomfortable with you going upstairs to casually hook up with your long-time crush that you need advice on what to wear to do exactly that?

Couldn’t ask Ned, either, because this felt like the kind of thing MJ wanted to keep a secret. You know, considering it’d look bad for a decathlon captain to be hooking up with one of her teammates.

I put on a button down and a pair of nice jeans.

I had time to eat dinner before I went down, but maybe I should go down to the Thai place down the street and get take out for both of us? Or maybe I should wait until after we did…whatever we were gonna do…and then order something? Was that protocol? What was protocol? Was there a protocol?

Okay, I needed to calm myself down. It was just MJ.

Yeah, okay, just MJ. The same MJ with gorgeous hair and gorgeous eyes and an amazing mind and…

At this rate, I was going to have a panic attack before I even got there.

Oh, what if I panicked while we were in the middle of doing…whatever…and I freaked her out? God, how lame would that be? I finally get to do the exact thing I’ve wanted to do with her almost two years and then break down because of stupid anxiety.

I was the biggest idiot. I should’ve just said no, but then I would’ve had to explain to her than it’d kill me to casually hook up with her but not be able to call her my girlfriend.

So I guess this was kind of suicidal of me, wasn’t it?

I looked in the mirror. Tie or no tie? I had a tie that went with this shirt. Was that too fancy? No, I was wearing jeans, it was fine. Maybe she’d like the tie?

Okay, I was just gonna put on the tie and then maybe focusing on tying my tie would help me calm down a little.

At least she didn’t have any superpowers so she wouldn’t be able to hear my heartbeat.

Oh, no, what if she had superpowers? That could be…very bad.

_Okay, Peter, that’s ridiculous. Michelle Jones does not have superpowers. She was not bitten by radioactive bugs, she was not injected with super-soldier-serum, she is a normal human being and she is not going to be able to smell my fear._

Who was I kidding? It was MJ. Of course she could smell fear.

Okay, tying a tie was not helping with anxiety.

Aaand it was eight. I was late. Fantastic.

Luckily for me, May was working overtime tonight, so she was not around to question why I was leaving the apartment all dressed up.

I went upstairs, trying to regulate my breathing in the elevator, and found MJ’s door.

It occurred to be that she lived exactly above me, which meant if one of us ever needed to sneak out of the other’s bedroom, we could just use the fire escape.

That is, if this happened more than once.

Which I doubted, but I hoped for.

Kind of.

I knocked on the door, and she opened it almost immediately.

“You’re late. And you…dressed up.”

I looked at her. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and somehow still looked absolutely incredible.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to wear to…something like this.”

She laughed, pulling me into the apartment by my tie. “You’re a dork.”

“Is that an upgrade or a downgrade from nerd?” I asked as she closed the door behind me.

“Depends on your perspective,” she said, and then she was pulling me towards her and pressing her lips to mine.

It took me a minute to register the fact that she was kissing me. MJ was kissing me.

Oh, I should kiss her back.

I let my hands rest on her waist, hesitant. I didn’t wanna be pushy, but I didn’t wanna not do anything.

Her hands were in my hair, pulling gently.

I guess all the effort I’d put into looking presentable was gonna go down the toilet really quickly. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see that coming.

_MJ_

It was a little frustrating. I could feel him hesitating, but I couldn’t really break the kiss to tell him to shove his hands down my pants. How did girls usually do this?

I pulled one hand away from his hair, and he whined a little against my lips. I put my hand over his, gently guiding it under the cotton of my shirt. His hands were softer than I expected, gliding over my skin. He pressed his hand to the small of my back, pushing me into him.

I was trying not to think too hard about this. He’d said yes, so he wanted this, right? It wasn’t just him saying yes because he was too nice to say no?

“Peter,” I mumbled, pulling away from the kiss. I breathed hard, trying to get some oxygen to my brain so I could string together a sentence.

Unfortunately, he thought I was having second thoughts. He started to pull away.

“I just wanted to make sure you were actually into this,” I breathed hurriedly. “Just, like, are you sure?”

He huffed, laughing breathlessly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I just didn’t want it to be, like, you didn’t wanna say no because you didn’t wanna disappoint me or because I’m captain or anything-”

“Trust me, MJ, I’m sure.”

I was about to say something else, but he kissed me before I could.

Fine by me. He had ridiculously soft lips, anyways.

I pulled his shirt loose from his pants and slipped my hands under his shirt. His abs were practically carved from marble. Both of his hands were under my shirt, gripping me by my waist, pulling me into him until I was completely pressed against him. I leaned into him, moaning against his lips.

He tugged at the hem of my shirt gently, breaking the kiss. “Is it alright if I take this off of you?” he asked, panting between words.

I nodded, and let him pull it up over my head. He tossed it onto the living room couch, and went back to kissing me. I moaned again, leaning into his hands as they roamed over my skin.

“Bedroom,” I breathed, “we should go to my bedroom.”

“Right.”

I pulled him to my bedroom, closing the door behind us and immediately trying to loosen his tie. He was staring at me as I fumbled with the tie.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

I got it free, and tossed it onto my desk, then slid my arms around his neck and kissed him again.

Honestly, I’d be happy just making out with him the whole time, but also, I definitely wanted more than that right now.

I started to palm over his jeans, and he leaned into me, humming a little against my lips. I added a little pressure, and I could feel him getting harder.

“MJ,” he mumbled, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“Should I stop?”

“No, please don’t.”

I fumbled with his belt buckle as he pressed his lips to my shoulder, trying desperately to undo it. I wasn’t breathing normally, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to break through my ribs.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

Peter moved a bra strap off of my shoulder as he kissed up my neck.

_Scratch that, why did I ever think this was a bad idea?_

I managed to undo his belt, and pulled it off, tossing it in the general direction of his tie. I managed to unbutton his jeans, but then he slipped his hands under my bra, and I froze up a little.

_Hi, insecurities? Can you kindly fuck off for a while?_

“You okay?” Peter asked.

“Yeah.”

“You tensed up.”

“I know, just- just keep- I’m fine with it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Mhm,” I hummed. He started to touch me, lips pressing gently under my ear as he did. I bit my lip to stop from making any kind of noise, but it didn’t help. I whined, slow and high-pitched, leaning into him. He murmured indistinctly against my neck.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, nudging my face to the side so he could kiss under my jaw. I was desperately trying to unzip his jeans, but he was doing a great job of distracting me enough to make me forget how zippers worked.

He cupped my chest, running his thumbs back and forth. I tried so hard to turn on enough brain cells to remember which way to pull the zipper, but unfortunately, I was too turned on in the other way have a coherent thought.

“Peter,” I mumbled, “you gotta help me out here.”

“Hm?”

“Pants.”

“Mm.”

He pulled his hands out from under my bra and unzipped his pants. I stepped back for a moment so he could take his pants off. I was kinda just…staring at him. He was crazy muscular, but I guess that was easy to hide under his school clothes.

“What?” he asked as he kicked his pants aside.

“Nothing,” I said, stepping close to him again and hooking a finger under the waistband of his boxers. “Am I okay to…?”

“Yeah, yeah, please.”

I slipped my hand into his boxers and wrapped my fingers around him. He closed his eyes, lips just slightly parted.

How the fuck was I lucky enough to even be in this situation right now? I had to be dreaming, right?

I started to move my hand up and down, and his brows furrowed a little.

“Dry,” he mumbled, “your hand is dry.”

“Sorry.”

I pulled it away, licking my palm before I slipped back under his boxers. When I started again, his head fell back a little, moaning softly.

Well, that was the best sound I’d ever heard.

“MJ,” he breathed. I sped up a little, and his hands landed on my hips, gripping me tightly. His fingers dug into my hip bones, not hard enough to leave bruises, but hard enough to clear my brain fog a little. I sped up my movements a little more, and he moaned a couple more times before I could feel him start to twitch in my hand. I could feel his pulse quicken under my fingers. “MJ,” he said, a little more desperate and wrecked this time. “I’m- I’m-”

And then he came, the front of his boxers darkening as he did. I kept up my movements until it seemed to stop, and then gently, pulled my hand away.

It was weird. I expected to feel slutty or weird, but I just felt kind of proud of myself. I’d made him feel like that.

His knees were shaking a little, so he took a couple steps backwards and sat down on the edge of my bed.

“Sorry,” he said. “That was…amazing.”

I laughed, kind of self-conscious. “I’m glad?”

He looked at me. “Can you come over here so I can…?”

“Right.”

I sat down next to him on the bed, and he started to kiss me, one hand on my leg, one hand on my face.

“Mm, Peter,” I interrupted. “Shouldn’t you, um, clean up?”

He pulled away enough to glance down at the dark stain on his boxers. “Right. Um, where’s your bathroom?”

“Door opposite mine,” I told him, and he stood up, giving me a lopsided smile before he left the room.

I flopped back on my bed, trying not to focus on my pulse, which I could feel between my legs.

_Peter_

I cleaned up as best as I could, considering I didn’t have a fresh pair of boxers on me, and then went back to her room.

She was laying back on the bed, eyes closed. When I closed the door behind me, she sat up.

She looked…so freaking beautiful. Her hair was a mess and her lips were pink and swollen and she was wearing her bra and sweatpants, and all I could do was thank my lucky stars that she’d asked me for this.

I crossed to the bed, sitting down next to her.

“You’re still okay with, um, continuing?” I asked.

She moved, throwing one leg over me so she was straddling me, and kissed me. Her hair fell in a curtain of curls around us.

I had my hands on her hips, but I was hesitant. She’d been…so good. What if I wasn’t quite up to par?

“Peter?” she mumbled against my lips. “You can touch me.”

“I am.”

“Not the same way I was touching you,” she said. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to-”

“I do,” I interrupted, trying to assure her. “I just…I don’t know.”

“I’ll, uh, guide you, if you need me to,” she breathed, before leaning in and kissing me again. I dipped my hand under the waistband of her sweatpants, pressing gently between her legs. She moaned against my lips, softly, her arms sliding over my shoulders and wrapping around my neck. I could feel a damp spot on her panties, getting damper and bigger as I rubbed against her. Her hips were kind of grinding down into my hand. “Peter,” she moaned. “Please.”

I pulled my hand away a little, and she whined. I slipped my hand under her panties, short curls of coarse hair under my fingers. She shifted her hips forward, pushing my hand a little further. I let my fingers explore folds of soft skin, trying to gauge her reactions to figure out a pattern. Her hands buried themselves in my hair, pulling my hair a little. She moaned a couple times, pulling my hair when she did. I realized she’d pull harder when I was doing something right. I got some of her wetness onto my fingers and pulled it up her folds, getting a kind of sudden jerk from her hips.

“Sorry,” she breathed, pulling away from the kiss and resting her forehead against mine.

“It’s fine,” I assured her, gripping her hip with my unoccupied hand. I pushed my fingers further, slowly pushing into her. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” she breathed. “So much more than okay.”

I pushed in a little further, watching her to make sure I wasn’t hurting her. I could hear her heartbeat, fast and loud, and her breathing was hot against my face. But no signs of pain, so I kept going.

“Can you- can you, um, curl your fingers?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut as she did, presumably trying to focus.

I curled my fingers towards me, and she moaned sharply, back arching.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, just…keep doing that. Please.” Her voice had gone low and husky, like the other night at the party when we were on the steps.

I curled my fingers again, pressing into something…soft and spongey. She moaned loudly again, sounding strained and desperate. Her fingers were tangled in my hair, pulling hard. I glanced up at her face, and her eyes were closed, her lips parted, breathing hard.

“Harder,” she pleaded.

So I pressed harder, gripping her hip tight when she jerked a little.

“Use your- can you-”

“Show me,” I said softly.

She reached her hand down and gently moved my thumb until it was over a…nub.

Oh, _that_ was the clitoris. Got it.

I pressed down gently with my thumb, slowly pumping my curled fingers inside of her. She moaned, dropping her head to my shoulder, her hands falling to my upper arms. Her fingers dug into my biceps as I went.

“Faster,” she sighed.

I ignored my muscles seizing in my hand and did as she asked. Whatever it took to make her moan my name again. She kept arching her back, face blank, whining and sighing and moaning.

I was so fucking lucky.

“Peter,” she whimpered, voice quiet and husky. “Peter, Peter, _Peter_.”

I went faster, pressed into her harder. She was rocking her hips down on my hand, seemingly completely lost in sensation. Her shoulders and stomach were coated in a sheen of sweat, her skin burning hot under my hands.

“I’m gonna- _fuck_ , Peter, I-”

And then she was crying out, back arched, muscles squeezing around my fingers. I kept going, unsure, but then she slumped against me, so I gently pulled my hand out of her sweatpants. She sighed softly, breath hitting my neck and shoulder. I twisted us, laying down, so we were both on our sides. She didn’t move away from me, head tucked under my chin. I could hear her heartbeat slowing gradually.

“Do you wanna order food?” I asked. She laughed, her shoulders shaking. “What?”

“Great pillow talk, Peter.”

“It’s a genuine question. I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Me neither, but just, like, give me a minute.”

I wasn’t complaining. MJ was laying in my arms, snuggled into me, regulating her breathing. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight to my chest.

I took a breath. “As far as first sexual experiences go…”

“That was pretty good,” she mumbled. “Pretty damn good.” I could feel her lips brushing over my skin as she spoke.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Pretty good.”

She slowly rolled away from me, and I loosened her arms to let her go. “Okay, I’m ready for food.”

“Alright, where from?”

I got up and grabbed my phone out of my jeans. She sat up.

“Hey, I have a hair tie on my desk, can you toss it to me?”

“Yeah.”

I found the purple tie on her desk, and threw it to her. She caught it easily. “Thanks.”

She pulled her hair up into a ponytail as I opened my phone, trying to find somewhere to order food from.

“How do you feel about Five Guys?”

She scrunched up her face. “I don’t feel like a burger right now. Ooh, can we get pizza? I’ll split the cost with you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve got it.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m paying next time, then.”

I glanced up at her. “Next time?”

Her eyes went wide. “Unless…you don’t want to. I just figured that, you know, this was fun and it felt really good, and, you know, it’s not like we won’t get better with practice.”

I smiled, and she relaxed a little. “I want to, I just didn’t think you would.”

She laughed. “Dude, I was all over you a few minutes ago.”

I could feel my cheeks getting warm. “I know, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t wanna make assumptions. Anyways, um, toppings?”

She laughed at me again, getting up off the bed. “Cheese or pepperoni. I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” She left the room, the door staying open just a crack behind her.

I put down pepperoni and placed the order, and then got redressed. I was too lazy to tuck my shirt into my jeans or tie my tie again, so I rolled up the tie and put it on her desk, hoping I didn’t forget it here tonight.

MJ came back into the room a couple minutes later, and went to her closet, pulling out a sweater and pulling it on.

“Here, let’s go watch some TV to try to wind down,” MJ said, gesturing for me to follow her.

We sat down in her living room and she turned on some Netflix show, curling up her legs on the couch.

I stared blankly at the screen. I couldn’t believe the events of the day. She’d been in my lap, moaning my name, like she had been in a million of my dreams over the course of the last year and a half.

At the end of our first episode, the pizza got here. I’d paid online, so MJ just went to the door and got the pizza, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, heading into her kitchen and opening the fridge. “There’s lemonade, apple juice, and some soda.”

“I’m good with a glass of water.”

She nodded, then poured a glass of lemonade for herself and a glass of water for me, carrying both into the living room.

“Thanks,” I said, accepting the water from her. She smiled at me, setting her glass on the coffee table and grabbing slice of pizza. She passed one to me, then grabbed one for herself.

The next episode started, and we ate in silence. It was kind of nice. It wasn’t awkward, just easy and comfortable.

After a while, she shifted, stretching her legs out. They fell over my lap, and then she seemed to realize and looked at me.

“It’s fine, MJ,” I promised.

“Thanks.”

She turned back to the TV, and I forced myself to, too. I couldn’t just stare at her, that’d be creepy.

When the episode was over, she turned off the TV and started clearing up. There was one slice left, and she pushed the box towards me.

“All yours. I’m stuffed.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, picking up our glasses and going to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.

I took the last slice, holding it between my teeth as I closed the box.

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand as she came back into the living room. I handed her the box, and she crossed back into the kitchen, opening a drawer and shoving it in. “I’ll take out the recycling and trash and everything tomorrow.” She was telling herself more than she was telling me.

I went back to her room, grabbing my tie and making sure I had my phone by slapping my pocket, and then went back out into the living room.

“I should head back downstairs for the night,” I said, kind of awkwardly.

She followed me to the front door. “Yeah, makes sense. Have a goodnight, Peter.”

“You too, MJ.”

I opened the door and stepped out into the hall, glancing back to smile at her one last time. She smiled back before she closed the door.

I leaned against the wall next to the door.

_God, I’m lucky._

_MJ_

I packed up all of my homework for tomorrow, made sure the living room and kitchen were clean, and then changed and went to bed.

I laid there, under my covers, staring at the ceiling. I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my waist and my hips, or feel his arms wrapped around me.

I would kill to fall asleep cuddled into him like that.

And, geez, he’d been so sweet and concerned, and he caught on so quick when I was telling him what to do.

Of course he had to be a perfect gentleman about all of it. Why couldn’t he secretly be an asshole, and then I could get over him and pretend it’d never happened?

But holy shit, he’d been so caring and gentle, and he was fucking _good_ with his hands.

At least now I was screwed both figuratively and literally.


	3. jack daniels

_MJ_

My dad came home the next day, as I was at home doing homework. The second I heard the door open, my shoulders tensed.

“Michelle, how was your week?” he asked. It was a thinly veiled request for an update on my grades.

“I got a 98 on my math test, a 96 on my history test, and a 100 on my biology lab.”

He grunted, unsatisfied. “96 on the history test.”

“It was only one question wrong,” I said, trying to defend myself.

“One question? How many mistakes are you allowed in life as a black woman?”

I dropped my gaze to the ground. “None.”

“Exactly. I want your math and history marks upgraded.”

“Dad, there’s not a lot I can do-”

He dropped his briefcase angrily. “Do as I say, Michelle.”

“Okay.” My voice was small and shaky.

He pulled his luggage into his room and slammed the door behind him. I winced.

My fault, I guess.

\---

It was like that for a couple days. Tense.

On Friday, he was heading out to spend the weekend with his Aunt Addy and Uncle Antonio.

“How’d your physics test go?” he asked as he pulled his suitcase out of his room.

“It was good.”

“Good?”

I got up and threw out the empty bag of corn chips I’d been snacking on.

“Michelle.”

“I got a 91.”

He was scarily silent.

“Dad?”

“What was it out of?”

“35. It’s a 32 out of 35.”

“You got three wrong?”

I nodded, watching him carefully.

“Michelle Addison Jones, that is unacceptable.”

“I know, I know-”

He grabbed my arm, fingers digging in. “Do you?” he shouted. “Do you know how this could affect your college applications?”

I nodded. “It’s early October, Dad, I have plenty of time to-”

“I don’t care! You shouldn’t be thinking in terms of pulling your marks up! They need to be consistently excellent!” He let go of my arm and stepped back, steadying his breath and smoothing down his shirt. “I just want you to succeed, Michelle.”

“I know.”

He picked up his bag. “I’ll see you on Sunday night.”

“Yeah, see you.”

I rubbed my arm. Well, today was better than most days with him. He hadn’t used his belt.

I went to my room and dug into my drawers. It was a Friday night, I’d just drink the gross feeling in my chest away.

_Peter_

I got a text from MJ just after dinner with May.

_MJ: what are you doing tonight_

_Me: I don’t have any plans_

_MJ: wanna come upstairs?_

My heart pounded as I typed out my reply.

_Me: be right up_

“Uh, May?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go upstairs and keep MJ company.”

“Sounds good, sweetie.”

I left the apartment and went up to hers.

When she opened the door, she looked tired, and maybe a little sad. I could smell a little bit of alcohol coming off of her.

“Hey,” she said, “come in.”

I noticed a bruise on her upper arm, like someone had grabbed her too tight and left angry finger-shaped marks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Come in.” She was slurring a little.

I stepped in through the door. “Are you sure you wanna do anything tonight?”

She nodded. “Can we just, like, sit and watch some TV first?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She led me into the living room, and I realized why she’d been slurring. There was a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, cap off.

“MJ?”

“It’s a Friday night,” she mumbled, sitting down on the couch and picking up the bottle and the remote. “It’s not like we have school tomorrow.”

I sat down next to her, watching as she put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table, leaning back into the couch. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

She took a swig from the bottle and turned on a sitcom, then passed the bottle to me. I took a swig from it, too, trying to keep a poker face as it burned down my throat.

“Sorry, it’s really strong.”

“It’s good, though. It tastes like cinnamon.”

I passed it back to her.

We sat there for a couple of episodes, taking swigs of whiskey, laughing at dumb jokes. She teased me a couple times about the face I made when I took a drink, but it was friendlier than it used to be. She wasn’t deadpan anymore, she was smiling as she teased me.

Once we were solidly drunk, MJ put the cap on the whiskey bottle and stood up, swaying a little.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Bedroom. You coming?”

_Oh. Okay._

I followed her into her bedroom, and she closed the door behind us before stashing her bottle in a desk drawer, burying it in old school supplies.

“How did you get your hands on that?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Harry.”

_Makes sense._

She turned back to me, stepping close enough that I could almost feel how warm her body was. Then again, I had an unfair advantage.

“You’re still cool with hooking up?”

I nodded, so she pulled me towards her by the front of my t-shirt, kissing me. And then her hands were sliding under the fabric of my shirt, roaming over my stomach and chest and back.

Her hands were small and soft. It felt like velvet sliding over my skin.

As much as I wanted to let her undress me and touch me, she’d done that first last time, so it was my turn to pleasure her first.

Or, at least, attempt to.

I started to pull her t-shirt up, and she pulled away from the kiss, allowing me to take it off of her. I picked her up, putting her back down on the bed, on her back. Kissing her, I slid my hands under the waistband of her leggings, then broke the kiss to pull them off of her and drop them next to her shirt.

“Peter?”

I looked at her, and she looked…almost scared.

_Oh, no._

“Did I do something? Is this too fast? Do you want me to slow down or stop or-”

“No, no, can you just…take off some of your clothes? It feels weird to be, like, almost naked underneath someone who’s fully dressed.”

 _Oh. That’s easy_.

I sat up and scrambled for the back of my collar, pulling off the shirt in a couple of clumsy motions. I let it fall next to the bed, with the other clothes.

“Better,” she mused, a small smile on her lips as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into a kiss.

The alcohol was only adding to the warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest that she gave me.

I waited until she seemed fully relaxed to slide my hands under her back. I tried to unhook her bra, but fumbled a little.

_How do these things even work?_

“Need a hand?” she asked, lips brushing against mine. I nodded. “Get off for a second.”

I sat up, to give her room, and then she did, too. She reached behind her back.

“I’ll show you how to do that next time,” she said as the bra loosened around her and her arms fell away. I pushed the straps off of her shoulders and pulled the bra off of her, dropping it next to our other clothes.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured before I could think better of it.

She chuckled kind of bitterly. “Thanks, Peter.”

I kissed down her neck, slowly pushing her back down onto the bed, and she let out the quietest little moan. As I kissed over her collarbone and down her chest, she shuddered softly. I glanced up, but she looked comfortable, so I continued. I swirled my tongue around one of her nipples, and she arched her chest into me, breaths stuttered. Holding her by her waist to keep her relatively still, I sucked, hoping I was doing something right. I wasn’t quite sure I was on the right track until she moaned and grabbed my shoulders, digging her fingers in. I switched to her other nipple and did the same thing, sucking and swirling my tongue, trying to get as much moaning out of her as I could. Eventually, her hands made their way to my head, and pushed me away.

“Do you want me to-”

“Don’t stop, just go lower,” she pleaded, voice husky and desperate.

I kissed down her stomach, pausing and pulling away when I realized I needed to take off her panties. When I started to pull them away, she lifted her hips, making it easier for me. They landed on top of the growing pile of clothes. I kissed down from her belly button, then ducked between her legs, licking a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit.

She tasted…kind of sweet.

I did the same thing again, and she moaned, “Peter.”

I did it one more time, then swirled my tongue around her clit, trying not to press into it too hard. She let out a long sigh.

I looped my arms under legs, gripping her hips, keeping my tongue on her clit. I was applying light pressure, trying not to overwhelm her, but then she buried her hands in my hair and pulled, pressing me into her. I took the hint, applying more pressure, suckling a little as I did.

“Peter,” she moaned, louder this time. “God, Peter.”

I pressed my hips into the bed, trying to relieve pressure. If she kept moaning like that, I was gonna come undone before she could even touch me.

I pulled one hand away from her hip, and positioned my hand under my chin, pushing two fingers into her. Her legs tightened around my head as she whined. I curled my fingers, pressing into the spongey area, and her back arched.

It was a balancing act now. I had to keep up the rhythm with my mouth and my hands, and try to keep up if she shifted.

I licked a couple stripes up to her clit again, pressing extra hard when I’d swirl my tongue around her clit, and she started to get louder. Her hands left my hair and went to her own chest, her moans and whines got more desperate and louder, my name became a chant on her lips. Her legs became impossibly tight around my head, her muscles tightened around my fingers, and she was shouting my name. I kept going until she settled back down, then slowed down and pulled away. She tangled her fingers back in my hair, pulling me forward to rest my chin on her lower stomach.

“Oh my god, Peter.”

I smiled at her. “Was that good?”

“So good. So, so good,” she whispered.

I shifted my hips, still trying to relieve the pressure that’d been building for the past ten minutes. I didn’t say anything, though. She was soaking up her post-orgasm bliss.

I’d made her feel like that. I was the reason she was relaxed and blissful, eyes closed and lips parted. She kept playing with my hair, fingers gently twirling around curls.

“Give me one second and I’ll…do you,” she slurred. “I just need a moment.”

“Take your time,” I told her, perfectly happy to watch her while she played with my hair.

She took a couple more moments to regulate her breathing, then tugged at my hair. I crawled over her, kissing her gently. She moved a hand down my chest and palmed over my sweatpants. I hummed against her lips as she slipped her hand under the waistband and rubbed.

“Do you want me to use my hand or my mouth?” she asked.

“Hand’s fine,” I mumbled.

She pulled away from the kiss and pulled her hand out of my pants, licking her palm sloppily before dipping her hand back down, this time under my boxers. She wrapped her fingers around me, starting off slow. I dropped my forehead onto her shoulder.

“How’s that?” she asked.

“Good,” I mumbled.

She slowly sped up her whole arm and shoulder moving as she started to get going. I found myself moaning, pushing my hips down into her hand.

“MJ,” I huffed. “I’m gonna-”

“I just started,” she said, confused.

“I know,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush. I balled up the sheets in my hands.

Her hand was soft and slippery and moving so fast and there was so much pressure built up that I couldn’t take it.

“You don’t have to try to last longer for my sake,” she said. She turned her face into my neck and kissed me, suckling a little on the skin. Her fingers grew tighter around me, moving even faster.

I couldn’t hold on. “MJ,” I gasped.

And then it felt like I was exploding for a few seconds before I turned to jelly, buckling and falling onto her. I could hear myself knocking the air out of her, and quickly tried to move off of her. Her hand was still caught in my sweatpants, though, and stopped me. She chuckled softly, pulling it away.

“How was that?” she asked.

I smiled. “Amazing.”

She held up her hand, revealing white sticky splotches. “We should clean up.”

“Probably,” I muttered.

_MJ_

He went into the bathroom first, and came back into my room with his boxers in his hand. He was swaying a little as he walked, still pretty drunk.

“Where can I put these to dry?”

“Did you wash them in the sink?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“We have a washer and dryer. Just toss it in.”

“Oh, okay.”

I grabbed my pjs and went to the bathroom. When I came out, he was laying on my bed on his back.

“You look relaxed,” I said, trying not to slur. I crossed over to the bed, my legs wobbling a little as I did.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What? No.”

“Your legs are shaking.”

I laughed, turning my face away. “I came pretty hard, leave me alone.”

He gave me a lopsided smile.

“Shut up, Parker. Move, I wanna get under the blankets.”

“Oh, do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“Peter, you just ate me out, I don’t have a problem with you sleeping in my bed.”

He laughed softly, and moved as I peeled back the covers, then got into bed with me.

At first, we laid facing away from each other. I could hear his breathing, and it wasn’t the slow, deep breaths of someone who was sleeping.

“I’m cold,” I whined, lying a little. I turned over and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling slightly. I guess Drunk MJ didn’t care about rejection.

“You want me to keep you warm?” he asked, half-offering, half-surprised. He turned over, looking at me.

He had such beautiful brown eyes.

“Mhm.”

He slid his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. I nestled my face into his shoulder.

“You’re so warm,” I mumbled sleepily.

“You too.”

He pressed his face into my hair, breathing slowing down and evening out.

\---

When I woke up in the morning, we were still snuggled together. His breathing was still slow and even. He was asleep. I could enjoy this for a while.

I didn’t wanna move and risk waking him up, and I was comfortable, so I didn’t shift or anything. I just breathed.

His arms were looped around me, hands settled on my back, pressing me into him. One of mine was wrapped around his neck, the other folded against his chest. I could still feel his breathing in my hair, and I was sure if he were awake, he’d be able to feel my breathing on his collarbone.

I was so uselessly in love with him. And being snuggled into him right now wasn’t helping with that.

But I wasn’t about to move away. He was asleep, he didn’t have to know I wanted to snuggle with him.

I was just gonna stay still and enjoy this for as long as I could.

_Peter_

She was awake, I knew that much. Her breathing had changed a little, and her heart rate had picked up. But she didn’t know I was awake, and I wanted to hold her as long as I could.

I kept my breathing as slow and even as possible, and didn’t move.

Her hair smelled like honey. It was soft against my face, too.

She had one hand resting on my shoulder, that arm wrapped around my neck. Her skin was warm and smooth and velvety soft. It was like being held by an angel. Her other hand was against my chest, just over my heart.

How appropriate.

Her legs were tangled up with mine, one haphazardly thrown over my thigh.

That did nothing for the teenage hormones in my body.

She wasn’t moving, despite the fact that she was awake. She probably didn’t wanna wake me up. Or maybe she was hungover, and the thought of moving made her feel sick.

Either way, it meant I got to hold her.

For a brief moment, I let myself imagine she loved me, too. That one day, we’d be cuddled up like this all the time, I’d be able to hold her hand whenever I wanted, kiss her when we were watching TV on the couch or when she met me at my locker or when I just really wanted to.

I wanted her to want that. But she didn’t, she just wanted casual hook ups. And who was I to deny that? At the very least, I had that.

She squirmed a little in my arms, slowly and carefully pulling away from me. I let my arms loosen so she could get away.

“Oh,” she breathed, “you’re awake.”

“I didn’t wanna wake you up,” I lied.

She slowly rolled away, sleepily blinking her eyes. “I’m gonna get some Advil for my head, you want one?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay. I didn’t drink that much.”

She groaned. “Asshole.”

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” She sat up slowly. “Why’d you let me drink so much last night?”

“I drank the same amount.”

“But I was already drunk when you got here.”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really thinking.”

She got up, and left the room to go to the bathroom.

She came back a couple minutes later, sitting down on the bed. “How bad do you think it’d be if I didn’t do any planning for the decathlon meeting on Monday?”

I chuckled. “I’m sure you could get away with it. I can vouch for you being busy.”

She laughed, playfully hitting me. “Creep.”

“You’re the one who requested I keep you busy!” I protested.

She laughed, falling sideway onto the bed as she did. “As if you weren’t happy to comply.”

“Hey, I’ll comply as much as you want.”

She stopped laughing and stared at me. Her eyes were so big and dark and sparkly. Who’s eyes were just that sparkly?

I was about to ask why she was staring at me, but then she stood up, turning away.

“I’m gonna make some breakfast.”

I sat up. “Do you have a spare toothbrush I can use?”

“Under the sink,” she called as she left the room.

I got up, shaking off my confusion and going to her bathroom. I found a new toothbrush under the sink, and tore it out of the cardboard. I found her toothpaste behind the mirror and brushed my teeth.

“You can leave the toothbrush in the cabinet!” MJ called. I stepped out of the bathroom, still brushing my teeth.

“You sure?” I mumbled through the toothpaste.

She looked at me, and giggled. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying over more than just the one time, Peter. If you don’t, I can always toss it.”

I nodded, then stepped back into the bathroom, finishing up and spitting into the sink. I rinsed, and then went to the kitchen. MJ was standing at the stove, scrambling some eggs.

“How do you like them seasoned?” she asked.

“May usually just puts cheese on them.”

She looked at me, eyes wide. “No thyme or coriander or paprika?” she asked.

I shook my head. “The cheese is usually enough for me,” I said with a shrug.

MJ scoffed, shaking her head. “Okay, allow me to introduce you to eggs with flavour.”

“Cheese has flavour!”

“Do you know how _white_ you sound right now?”

I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter. “Fine. Culture me.”

“Gladly.”

She seasoned the eggs and served them onto plates, handing me a fork. I dug in, tentatively taking a bite.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing. What’s in that?” I asked.

“Savoury and a bit of goat cheese,” she said, satisfied with herself.

I took another bite. “Is this how you normally have them?”

“No, usually I use coriander, cloves, and ground ginger, but I didn’t want to burn your mouth.”

“I can handle spice,” I protested, mouth filled with eggs.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Am I allowed to test that?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Come over again for dinner and I’ll make spicy chicken tacos and we’ll see exactly how much spice you can handle.”

“Challenge accepted.”

She leaned against the counter with her eggs, grabbing a fork and taking a bite. “I can’t believe you’ve only ever had eggs with cheese. Did you know when I was little, I wouldn’t eat eggs unless they had hot sauce on them?”

I stared at her. “What?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I saw my mom eating eggs with hot sauce and after that, it was my new favourite thing.”

“What’s your mom like?” I asked.

“Dead.”

I coughed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Do you mind me asking how she passed away?”

MJ shrugged, picking at her eggs. “She killed herself. I was six, came home from school one day, saw her sleeping on the couch. She wouldn’t wake up to turn on the TV, so I called my dad. It was an overdose on her meds.”

“I’m so sorry, MJ.”

She looked at me. “Am I allowed to ask why you live with your aunt, now?”

“My parents died in a plane crash when I was four,” I told her. “And then my uncle was shot a few years ago.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do I get to ask about that bruise?”

Glancing down at her arm, she shook her head. “It’s a boring story.”

She didn’t wanna talk about it. Fair enough.

We finished breakfast, and I helped her clean up the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go downstairs and do some homework. Lemme know when dinner’s ready,” I said.

She smiled. “See you then.

I grabbed my stuff, making sure I was fully dressed and had everything I needed, then went back downstairs to my apartment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you're wondering about the graphic violence warning, dw, I'll get there ;)


	4. leave me lonely

_MJ_

I called Peter at seven, when dinner was ready.

“Hey,” he answered after the first ring, “are you done dinner?”

“I am.”

“Alright, I’m on my way up.”

I didn’t wanna hang up, so I kept talking. “So, I made three types of taco, one mildly spicy, one moderately spicy, and one that’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, so you wanna see how much I can get through?”

“If you make it through all three, I’ll buy you lunch on Monday,” I offered.

“Does that mean I have to buy you lunch on Monday if I can’t make it through?”

“I didn’t say that, you did.”

He laughed. “Okay, it’s a deal.”

“So, I usually like burgers, chicken nuggets, maybe pizza-”

“Alright, Jones, you haven’t won yet.”

I laughed. “That’s hard to believe.”

There was a knock on my door, so I hung up, opening it to see Peter pocketing his phone.

“I might surprise you,” he said.

He’d changed out of his sweats from last night and into jeans and a fresh t-shirt. It was weird, seeing him out of his school clothes. It was weird how attractive he was in casual stuff.

“Doubt it, Parker.”

I let him into the apartment, and into the dining room (which was pretty much just a table shoved in the corner of the living room). I’d set out two plates, each with three tacos, some sour cream, some salsa, and a couple glasses of water.

“Wow. You really went all out.”

“I don’t play when it comes to food.”

“Clearly.”

We sat down.

“You’re…amazing at presentation.”

I laughed, kind of nervously, but I was hoping he didn’t pick up on that. “Thanks, I tried way too hard.”

We started to chow down. I’d made all of my tacos mild, because I didn’t think a runny nose was a great way to seduce him. It was, however, funny to watch him cough and sniffle his way through dinner.

“You having fun there, Parker?” I asked when he was halfway through the second taco.

He nodded. “It’s good, just…hot. Really hot.”

“That’s moderate spice,” I pointed out helpfully.

He gave me an annoyed glare. “Thanks, MJ, that helps so much with my aggressively white taste buds.”

I laughed. “It’s good that you can acknowledge your aggressive whiteness.”

“Hey, at least I’m a straight white boy who can recognize my privilege,” he said, voice strained. He coughed a couple times, reaching for water.

I stifled laughter.

“Leave me alone, I’m trying my best.”

“If this is your best, I’m glad all you do is intern for Stark Industries and not, say, build the Spider-Man suit.”

Peter snorted. “Hey!”

I watched him suffer through to the end of the second taco, and then chug the rest of his water.

“I need a break.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Already?”

“Shut up, I’m white.”

He sat back in his chair, sniffling a little. His eyes were a little pink, as were his nose and the tops of his cheeks.

He looked absurdly cute. It was unfair and _beyond_ frustrating.

Part of me wanted to get up and go sit in his lap and hold his face in my hands and kiss him until neither of us had any oxygen in our bloodstreams.

But if I did that, I’d have to take it all the way to the bedroom or I’d be breaking our deal. Sex, nothing more.

“You’re staring at me,” he said. “Do I have salsa on my nose?”

I shook my head. “No. Sorry, I just…spaced out.”

His eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Are you okay? You look…I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Eat your last taco.”

His demeanor changed. He leaned back further, half-closing his eyes, resting his hand on his stomach. “I think I’m full,” he groaned.

“Peter, I’ve seen you eat a large pizza in ten minutes,” I told him, unfazed. “You’re not full.”

He frowned. “No, but it’s spicy and my mouth is on fire,” he whined. “I owe you lunch, I know.”

I softened. “I didn’t say that, you did.”

He looked at me, eyes wide and beautiful deep brown. “Are you sure?”

I shrugged. “It was never really part of the deal, and I feel like I’ve tortured you enough already.” (Read: you’re beautiful and I can’t bear to make you do anything for me when you’re obviously in pain because of me.) I got up. “Here, I’ll package it up and you can take it downstairs for tomorrow.”

He smiled up at me as I took his plate. “Thanks, MJ.”

“No problem.”

I put his taco in some Tupperware and gave it back to him.

“Do you want help cleaning up?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Go home. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, but took the Tupperware. “Okay. Thanks for dinner, MJ. I know I couldn’t finish it, but it was…really good.”

I smiled. “Anytime.”

As he went to leave, he knocked a glass off the table, and it shattered against the floor, glass spraying out against the tile. I jumped, squealing a little, shielding my face.

“Whoa, MJ, it’s okay.”

He went to touch my arm, slowly pushing it away from my face.

“Are you cut?”

I glanced down, suddenly feeling small and weak. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you okay? You flinched pretty hard.”

I nodded. “I’m okay. It just…scared me. I can clean up, you can go home.”

“No, I knocked it off the table, I’ll help you clean up. Where do you keep the broom and dustpan?”

I pointed past the kitchen, to the storage closet. “In there.”

He squeezed my shoulder and then went into the kitchen, opening the closet door. I stood there, looking at my hand. I was shaking, hard.

Over a broken glass.

Wow, MJ. Wow.

_Peter_

She was standing there, staring blankly at her hand. I didn’t say anything, starting to sweep up the broken glass. She seemed to snap out of it.

“Peter, I can handle it.”

She held out her hands for the broom and dustpan.

“No, I’ve got it. I made this mess anyways.”

“You didn’t mean to. You’re the guest, anyways, you shouldn’t be doing the housework-”

Something clicked. The way she’d jumped and yelped, throwing her arm in front of her face. The way she refused to let me, a guy, do any of the housework. It seemed to upset her, too, that I was cleaning up, like she was scared of what would happen. Her eyes were wide, hands and voice shaky, lower lip starting to tremble.

“How about you clear the table, and I’ll do this, and we’ll get the work down in half the time?”

She nodded, and immediately starting to clear the table. I paid attention today, and noticed how disturbingly good she was at it. Like she’d been waitressing for a decade. May wasn’t even that good and clearing a table, and she’d been clearing tables for me since I was a little kid.

Oh my god, MJ had been clearing tables like this since she’d been a little kid.

She somehow had all of dishes piled up in her arms, carrying them into the kitchen all at once with the grace of a dancer.

Part of me was awestruck. I couldn’t do that, and I had a superhuman advantage.

Part of me wanted to find out how she acquired that skill and then hold her tight and tell her it’d be okay and I’d protect her from whoever she needed protecting from, if she needed or wanted that.

Let’s be honest, I’d want to hold her tight and never let go, whether or not something was wrong.

She came back to the dining area with a couple paper towels, wiping down the table. I finished sweeping the floor, making sure to scan the floor, hoping my spider-vision would pick up any glass I’d missed. I didn’t see anything, so I took the dustpan into the kitchen and emptied it into the garbage.

“Do you need help with anything else?” I asked, figuring she’d probably say no.

“I’ve got it. Thanks, Peter.”

“Yeah, of course.”

I put the broom and dustpan back in the closet and closed the door, then said goodbye to her and went home.

_MJ_

On Monday, at school, Peter approached my locker slower than normal.

“Good morning,” he said, voice softer than usual.

“Hi. Are you losing your voice?”

He frowned. “No.”

I shrugged it off. “Okay, well, do you want to have lunch today? I can quiz you on the chemistry materials so you’re ready for the pop quiz today.”

“Pop quiz?”

“Mr. Harrington warned me about it because he knew I was prepping decathlon stuff.”

Peter let out a breath. “Yeah, please. I didn’t get a chance to catch up on chemistry because I was studying physics all weekend because…”

“We have that competition in a few weeks.”

“Yep.”

“Well,” I said, closing my locker, books in arms, “I’ll meet you in the library at lunch?”

“Sounds good.”

I started to walk past him, but he stopped me, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “Um, May took the graveyard shift tonight, so she’s out of the apartment from ten till six.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Are you leading up to inviting me over?”

He nodded, a blush starting to creep up his neck.

“Cool. Sounds good. I’ll see you at lunch.”

I walked past him to class.

\---

I sat down at a table at the back of the library, pulling out my chemistry materials. I’d flipped to the right page in the textbook, opened the note package, and found my data booklet by the time Peter came in.

He was definitely moving slower than usual, less hyperactive, I guess.

He sat down across the table from me, setting down his backpack next to him.

“Did you sleep enough last night?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, I slept fine, why?”

“You’re just…moving slower today. Usually you’re hyper and…bouncy.”

“Bouncy?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. I shrugged. “I just skipped the coffee this morning.”

That was a big fat lie, but I let it slide.

“Okay, so, let’s start with esterification,” I said, turning to the books.

I quizzed him on alcohols, carboxylic acids, hydrocarbons, halogens, oxides, everything from the chapter. And, because he was the smartest kid I knew, he answered every question flawlessly. I tried to give him a couple of trick questions, just to see, and he’d just look at me with those big brown eyes, tilt his head, and say, “Come on, MJ, give me a real one.”

Before long, the first bell rang, warning us to get to class. I started closing books.

“You did really well,” I assured him, “you’ll be fine.”

He smiled, just a little, a glimmer of pride peeking through. “Thanks for the quizzing.”

“Yeah, no problem. Let’s go kill that quiz.”

\---

After school, there was a decathlon meeting, which was mostly talking about what to expect at the competition in a few weeks, reminding everyone to study so I could quiz them next week. Mr. Harrington had a few notes, too. It was an abnormally long meeting, so it was dark by the time we got out.

I went to my locker, sorting out which books I needed to study for the night, and getting my car keys out of my locker.

Peter came up to my locker just as I was about to close it.

“Hey, I had a question about the competition,” he said, “can you walk with me to my locker?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I closed my locker and walked down the hall with him.

“So, I know it’s an in-state competition, but are we staying in the hotel the night before? Because I saw that it’s at a hotel, and-”

“Yeah, night before and night after, we’re all put up in the hotel.”

Peter looked at me. “Isn’t that expensive?”

I shook my head. “It was covered by the event sponsors. Namely Stark Industries. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that, would you?” I teased, eyebrow raised.

He laughed, cheeks flushing. “Mr. Stark didn’t tell me anything. He might just be investing in education, like he did with that MIT grant thingy a few years ago.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

We got to his locker, and he spun his lock around and opened the door. He checked his phone as he shoved some books in his locker, and deflated.

“I missed the last bus.”

I held up my keys. “We can carpool.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I can walk-”

“Peter, we literally live in the same building. Let me drive you.”

He looked at me like I was his hero. “Are you sure?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you dork. Hurry up and get your stuff and let’s _go_.”

He pulled some books out of his locker and shoved them haphazardly into his backpack. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m ready.”

I laughed, leading him out to the student parking lot, beeping my car to unlock it.

“Whoa, that’s your car?”

I shrugged. It was a new Audi model, but it wasn’t top-of-the-line by any means. “Yeah. My dad gets a steep discount because of his job.”

“Who does he work for?” Peter asked, running up to my car, gawking at it.

“He used to work for Audi, and now he works for a company that’s kind of a go-between for a bunch of car companies. If you think my car’s cool, you should see his Tesla.”

_“YOUR DAD HAS A TESLA?”_

I tried to shush him, but he started to ramble, asking what model it was, if he knows Elon Musk personally, and on and on.

“Wait wait wait,” Peter said, slowly calming down. “If your dad has so many connections, why do you live in the same shitty building as May and I?”

I shrugged. “It’s, like, home base. He’s got penthouses in fourteen cities, because he spends more time in those than at home. He’s only ever in the apartment for a day or two at a time.”

Peter frowned. “That’s sad. Why work that hard if you don’t get to see your family?”

A million memories of him yelling at me for my mom’s death, lashing me with his belt for bad grades, holding me by the front of my shirt with my back against the railing of the fire escape for sneaking out, all of it flashed through my mind.

“We’re not that close, I guess,” I lied.

The truth was that he didn’t want a daughter, he wanted an heir. He wanted someone smart and qualified that could take his place in the company when he wanted to retire. He stopped caring about me years ago. I didn’t know if it was when he started leaving me alone with Uncle Antonio, or when I screamed for him as I tried to shake Mom awake, or when I was born. I couldn’t remember ever sitting on his shoulders, or going for walks to get ice cream, any of that. I didn’t know if it ever happened, if he ever cared.

“I’m sorry.”

I shrugged it off. “It is what it is. Get in.”

The drive home was short, but kind of nice. Peter plugged his phone in, and played some upbeat indie pop, and we chatted a little. He kept adjusting the volume, turning it down whenever a song came in a little too hot and apologizing softly.

Oh.

He’d noticed me jump at the broken glass the other day. He was trying not to make me jump again.

Did he have to be so sweet?

\---

We got home, and went up the elevator together, saying soft, tired goodbyes at his floor.

I got into my apartment, and my dad was standing a few feet away from the door, arms crossed.

“You’re home late.”

I glanced at the clock. “There’s two hours until curfew.”

“Are you talking back to me?” he snapped.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry I’m home late, I should’ve texted you.”

“You’re damn right you should’ve.”

There was a beat of silence. I could feel my pulse quickening as he stared at me.

“Your chemistry marks were updated today.”

I blinked. “Right, we had a pop quiz, and-”

“You got a 90.”

“It was out of ten, that’s only one wrong-”

The slap that came was loud, echoing through the living room. My cheek stung, and warmed as I breathed, trying not to tear up.

“Don’t talk back to me. Go put your stuff in your room, and come back out here.”

I nodded, trying to make myself as small as possible as I hurried past him and into my bedroom. Once I was alone, I blinked, letting a couple tears fall.

_It’ll only be a couple of lashes. Then you can go to sleep or work in your sketchbook._

I took a breath, wiping my cheeks with the heel of my hand, and went back out to the living room.

“Shirt off, turn around,” Dad huffed, taking off his belt. I did as he said, closing my eyes, waiting.

Then the first lash came. It left my skin burning hot, stinging like hell. I bit my lip, trying desperately not to make a sound.

And a second lash, just below the first. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand.

And a third, overlapping a little with the second, stinging just that much more. I yelped a little, and expected another lash just for that, but it didn’t come.

“Don’t be a baby. Work harder. You don’t get to where I did by sitting on your ass and painting stupid pictures. You’re not fucking Bob Ross.”

And then he disappeared into his room.

I pulled my shirt back on and went back to my room.

I sat down at my desk, giving myself a couple minutes to cry silently.

My back was hot and stinging, and I knew I’d be sore tomorrow.

I could devote four or five hours a night, every study block, and every lunch period to studying, and I’d still never be enough for him.

I couldn’t sleep tonight, not if I wanted to do well enough on my chemistry test at the end of the week to avoid the belt. So I pulled out my books, turned on my desk lamp, and studied until sunlight started to stream in through the blinds.


	5. waiting for you to make a move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning kind of??? there's some references to sexual assault and a moment where one character doesn't say no bc ptsd so i can see that being triggering, potentially

_Peter_

The next day at school, MJ looked absolutely exhausted. Her skin was pale and colourless, and her eyes were dark and sunken.

“Hey,” I said softly, approaching her at her locker. “Are you okay?”

She nodded stiffly. “Yeah, why?”

“You look really tired, and you never showed up last night.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I ended up pulling an all-nighter.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“My marks aren’t quite good enough, I guess. It doesn’t matter.” Her voice was quieter and a little more raw than usual.

“Pulling an all-nighter is counter-productive. You should know that, you tell us to rest more than we study in decathlon all the time.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little different for you guys,” she snapped, shooting me a sharp glare. Her eyes widened a little. “Peter, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” I assured her.

“No, I shouldn’t have-”

“MJ, you had a long night. It’s fine, I promise. I’m not mad.”

That seemed to calm her down, telling her I wasn’t mad. Her shoulders relaxed, and she turned back to her locker, pulling out a textbook. It seemed to take more effort than usual, her face scrunching up in pain as she leaned back to compensate for the weight.

“Okay, whoa, be careful.” I put a hand on her back, trying to steady her, and she winced, almost dropping her textbook.

“Sorry, I’m a mess today,” she muttered hurriedly. “I should get to class.”

I watched her brush past me and rush down the hall to her first period.

My hand was still hot from touching her back. Did she have a fever? Is that why she hadn’t slept, why she looked so pale?

I forced myself to focus elsewhere. There was nothing I could do for her right now.

\---

After school, when I was at my locker, I saw MJ coming down the hallway out of the corner of my eye. Careful not to move too quick, I waved her over. She seemed a little hesitant, but she came over anyways.

“Hey, so, May and I are making lasagna tonight. I mean, it’s, like, frozen lasagna because she can’t cook to save her life, and between the internship and homework I don’t have the time to cook and…anyways. Do you wanna come over for dinner?”

She stared at me, eyes wide, expression unreadable. And then she looked down. “Peter, I’d love to, but my dad will kill me if I’m home late again and-”

I tuned out. Her voice shook when she mentioned her dad, heartrate picked up, hands tightened around her books. She was scared of her dad.

“-if you’re hurting for time, that is, it might help.”

I blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I wanted to know if you wanted a ride home. The next bus doesn’t come for half an hour, and if you’re tight on time it’s faster to drive anyways.”

She had the same expression on her face as before. It was, like, a mix of hopeful and eager to please. It was the same look I probably had on my face whenever I talked to Mr. Stark, the same look little kids have on their face when a teacher asks to use their work as an exemplar.

It made me a little sad. She was scared of her dad, working overtime to please him, probably sick, jumpy, and seemed as though she’d been trained since she was a kid to do whatever the people around her wanted from her, whether it was clearing a table or quizzing a classmate for a test.

No wonder she was a loner.

“Peter?”

I blinked. “Hi.”

“You spaced out.”

“Sorry.” I closed my locker. “Let’s go.”

I followed her out to the parking lot, thinking about how much I wanted to hug her and bury my face in her hair and breathe in the scent of honey that seemed to float around her. I wanted her in my bed, cuddled into me like she had been that first night after we’d fooled around. I wanted her safe and sound and relaxed, not overworked and eager to please and scared.

In the car on the way home, I noticed she wouldn’t let her weight fall completely against the seat.

Maybe I was wrong about the sick thing. Maybe she’d hurt her back.

I didn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know the answer.

\---

“Ned, I love that you and Betty are happy, but third-wheeling all night doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.”

“You won’t be third-wheeling,” Ned told me, “Betty’s inviting MJ right now.”

I frowned, blinking. “Okay, repeat the plan.”

“Tomorrow night, the four of us are gonna hang out and play games and get drunk, because we severely need to relax.” I hesitated, and Ned’s face slowly lit up. “See, you’re convinced!”

Betty and MJ joined us, smiling and talking. Betty left MJ’s side to cozy up with Ned. MJ stood next to me.

“You coming tomorrow night?” MJ asked, putting a subtle emphasis on “coming”.

I sighed. “I don’t think I have much of a choice, do I?”

Betty shook her head. “Nope, you’ve been peer-pressured into having a good time. Sucks to suck, Parker.”

“Watch it, Brant,” MJ teased, “you’ll fluster him.”

I looked at Ned, defeated. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be drinking myself into a coma to drown out this memory.”

The three of them laughed.

_Well, tomorrow should be fun._

_MJ_

Peter and I carpooled to Ned’s, showing up a few minutes after we were supposed to. I wasn’t worried, it wasn’t like we were going out to a movie or anything, we were just sitting in his apartment and goofing off all night. I’d brought a bag of chips and some money to pitch in for pizza. Peter was carrying a two-litre of Coke.

We got up to Ned’s apartment, and he opened the door, pulling us in and closing it behind us.

We started pouring drinks, mixing rum and coke and then dealing out UNO cards so we could play a few rounds. Betty ordered us a pizza online while beating our asses with wild card after wild card. I downed two drinks before Ned could finish his first.

And Peter, of course, being a lightweight, was tipsy after one drink. The tops of his cheek and bridge of his nose were rosy, and he kept taking a sip and licking his lips.

Maybe Drunk MJ was just a sucker for rosy cheeks, but he was super fucking cute right now.

Ned said something stupid, and Peter laughed a little, the smile reaching his eyes.

In an ideal world, I would’ve tackled him right then and pinned him to the ground and kissed him. He’d hold my waist and kiss me back, smiling that same smile at me when we pulled apart.

But this wasn’t that world. In this world, I was damaged and scared and unlovable. That was the bottom line. That Peter would only kiss me because it’d end in him getting off, not because he wanted to kiss me.

Before I knew it, I’d tossed another drink back.

We got bored of UNO and pulled out Monopoly. We got maybe halfway through the game before Ned and Betty ended up being more interested in each other’s lips than the colourful money, and disappeared into Ned’s room.

Peter and I split their cash and property evenly, and continued the game, just us. We could hear Betty’s giggles coming from Ned’s room.

“Hey, where are we sleeping tonight?” I slurred, rolling the dice.

“Guest room. He actually has one of those.”

“Wow. That’s fancy.”

Peter laughed. “New Yorkers have the lowest standards.”

I looked at him. If the New Yorker sitting across the board from me had low enough standards, maybe I’d be a little happier.

We played a few more turns, and then I announced, “I’m bored,” and swiped across the board with my arm, and turned, laying down on my back across the board. Peter looked down at me, smiling. He was upside down, or I was, or…fuck it. I’d had too much rum to think about who was what.

Peter gently pushed a strand of hair off of my forehead. “I’m glad you’re having fun tonight,” he said softly. “You needed it.”

I smiled up at him. “Well, thanks for letting us peer-pressure you, because I don’t think I’d be having quite as much fun if I had to be out in the living room alone right now.”

“Anytime, I crumble easily under peer-pressure.”

I giggled.

He really was just…beautiful. The lights were giving his brown curls a halo effect, and his smile was so perfect and sweet and soft.

Before I could really register what I was doing, I reached up, sliding a hand around his neck, and pulled him down to kiss me.

His lips were soft, and tasted like rum and Coke (understandably so). He was gently stroking my hair with one hand, the other probably propping him up so he didn’t fall.

“You’re pretty,” I mumbled against his lips. He pulled away, looking at me.

“So are you.”

And then he was helping me sit up and pulling me into his lap and his lips were on mine again, soft and sweet and slow. I slid my arms over his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck.

I could exist in this moment forever, and be perfectly content.

We were making out for a while, Peter cradling me close to his body, kisses gentle and feather-light. I pulled away for air, and Peter kissed under my jaw. I tilted my head to give him access, and he kissed down my neck, pressing soft kisses under my ear or over my collarbone or against my shoulder. I shifted so I was kneeling over him, knees straddling his hips, rather than being curled up in his lap. His hands fell to my hips, his lips still wandering over my skin.

“Peter,” I moaned. My voice was airy and soft, barely recognizable. I moved one of his hands under my leggings, and he caught on, fingers rubbing lightly between my legs. He nibbled below my ear, softly pressing his lips to the same spot afterwards.

He slipped his hand under my panties, fingers gently circling my clit. I let out a breath, letting my eyes start to close.

“How’s this?” he asked softly, pulling away from my neck to look up at me, searching my face for approval.

I pressed my forehead to his, grinding my hips into his hand. “Perfect,” I murmured. I looked at him through half-lidded eyes. He was flushed pale pink and giving me those big innocent brown eyes.

I kissed him again, less soft and slow and sweet, more heated and desperate.

He pushed two fingers into me, thumb replacing his index finger on my clit. I moaned against his mouth, pushing my hips down on his hand. He curled his fingers, pressing them into my g-spot. I squeaked, arching my back, bolts of electricity shooting up my spine.

“Peter,” I panted, dropping my head into his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

He pressed again, applying more pressure this time. I whined, long and high-pitched, my hips starting to move of their own accord. He moved his hand faster, fingers pumping in and out quickly, thumb speeding up as it circled my clit, applying more and more pressure. I was moaning and panting his name, pleading for more, begging him not to stop.

After a few minutes of this, I grew absolutely desperate. I was falling apart, bunching his shirt up in fists, moaning into his shoulder, grinding into his hand. He used his free hand to gently caress my face, lifting it a little so I could kiss him.

He hummed against my lips, and I could feel a small smile, and somehow, that tipped me over the edge. I came, trying not to shout since Ned and Betty were in his room down the hall, instead biting the fabric of Peter’s shirt and moaning, grinding into Peter’s hand more. Electric shocks flooded my whole body, forcing me to arch my back and neck, clench my fists tighter in his shirt, bite my lip so I didn’t scream.

And then I relaxed against his body, all of my muscles giving out at once. Peter pulled his hand out of my leggings and caught me, both of his arms wrapping around me and holding me against him.

“You smell nice,” I realized out loud, breathing him in. “Like…kinda sweaty, but also good.”

He chuckled a little. “Thanks, Em.”

He slowly lifted me, carrying me out of the living room and towards the guest bedroom. He laid me down on the bottom bunk, and moved to climb the ladder to the top bunk.

“Peter,” I said, before he could get very far, “I didn’t reciprocate.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I wanna.”

He laid down on the bottom bunk with me, eyes searching mine. “You’re really drunk, MJ, I don’t think-”

I’d started to press myself against him, only to realize he didn’t feel _excited_. “Peter?”

He flushed a deep pink. “You were moaning my name and you looked so hot and I kind of…came…already.”

“We should clean up.”

“Probably,” he mumbled, but he was wrapping his arms around me and shifting onto his back, pulling me on top of him. “In a minute.”

I spread out on top of him, burying my face in my neck, letting myself starfish a little.

“You smell so nice,” I mumbled as I drifted off. “So nice.”

_Peter_

I woke up with MJ sprawled out on top of me, head tucked under my chin, her breath hot against my neck. Her arms were lazily looped around me, and legs spread out, taking up the whole bottom bunk.

She smelled like salt and honey.

She was definitely still asleep, too. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, sending red and gold rays through the window. A few of those rays landed on her. She seemed to glow gold, like some kind of goddess.

I moved my hand from the small of her back to her face, cupping it in my hand, running my thumb back and forth over her cheekbone.

“I love you,” I admitted, a small whisper.

I knew I’d have to wake her up in a bit. Ned and Betty couldn’t see us sleeping together like this, it’d be a pretty quick way to blow our cover. I didn’t think I could sneak away and climb up to the top bunk, either. She was entirely on top of me, if I tried to move her off, she’d definitely wake up.

But for now, I stared at her perfect face, at her brown curls that spilled across my shoulder and onto the bed, at her golden skin. I ran my thumb over her cheek, wishing over and over that I could tell her I loved her when she was awake.

But that’d ruin everything.

I kept thinking about last night, when we’d kissed as she laid across the Monopoly board. Or when she’d been curled up in my lap. Those kisses hadn’t been inherently sexual, and they’d been so…nice. I wanted that, to be able to kiss her without the expectation of sex.

Then again, the sex part wasn’t half bad.

I listened for Ned and Betty through the walls, hoping they were still asleep.

One of them had a faster heartrate. So either they were awake, or they were having a nightmare.

My guess was the former.

“MJ,” I said softly. She frowned, so I thought she was waking up, but she tightened her arms around me and settled in. “MJ, you gotta wake up.”

I started to shift, hoping maybe I could maneuver her off of myself so I didn’t have to wake her, but she tightened her arms around me again, moaning softly.

“Come on,” I grumbled. I slowly pulled her arms away and gently rolled her off, making sure to catch her so she didn’t hit the mattress too hard.

“Peter?” she mumbled, frowning.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t want Ned or Betty to walk in and see us sleeping together,” I whispered, still laying next to her. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Mkay.”

I slowly got up, and climbed up to the second bunk, laying down. I listened to MJ’s breathing, and let myself drift off again.

_MJ_

When I woke up, Peter was gone. I was laying on top of him.

Maybe he’d moved to the top bunk?

I got up and checked, and he wasn’t there.

Huh. Weird.

I went out into the kitchen, where Betty was making herself some cereal.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft. “How’s your hangover?”

“Non-existent, thank god.” I took a bowl out of the cupboard, and started to make myself some cereal, too.

She scowled playfully. “Some of us weren’t so lucky.”

I laughed, keeping it soft so it didn’t hurt her head. “Sorry, I had four drinks. It takes more than that to give me a hangover.”

Peter came out of the bathroom just then, wiping his hands on his pants. His hair was a mess, wild brown curls sticking up in every direction.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

I handed him my bowl of cereal. “You look like you need this more desperately than I do.”

He gave me a lopsided, sleepy smile, and took it out of my hand. “Thanks.”

He got himself a spoon and leaned against the counter, digging in. I made myself a new bowl, and joined him, leaning against the counter.

“So, Betty, how was your night with Ned after you abandoned us with Monopoly?” I asked.

She blushed bright pink. “How much of it did you hear?”

I laughed. “Some giggling, that’s about it.”

She let out a sigh. “Thank goodness. I was trying to be quiet.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “We’re gonna need a girl talk session, aren’t we?”

Betty nodded, scooping up some of her cereal.

Peter looked between us. “Can’t imagine the kind of detail Ned’s gonna give me.”

“Way more than MJ’s gonna get from me,” Betty said, shrugging.

Peter groaned. “I’m gonna have to wash my ears out with soap and water.”

Ned came out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “Thanks for waking me up for breakfast, Bets.”

“I figured you needed your rest after last night.”

Peter and I groaned.

We finished breakfast, cleaned up the living room, and then Peter and I went back to our building.

“May’s out all night again, do you wanna stay over?” Peter asked as we got into the elevator.

“Yeah, as long as you let me get some homework done.”

“Deal.”

He got off at his floor. I went back to my apartment, changed, grabbed my laptop and my sketchbook, so I could catch up on my artwork, and went back downstairs to Peter’s apartment.

We chilled in his living room for the afternoon. May made us sandwiches before she headed out for work. I had my laptop on the coffee table with a reference picture up, and drew in my sketchbook. Peter was working on some math homework next to me, breezing through problem after problem.

I managed to get through a few portrait sketches before I gave up, my hand cramping and grey with graphite. I closed my laptop, and set my sketchbook on top of it, and went to wash my hands.

When I came back, Peter was frowning at his workbook.

“Are you actually having trouble with a question?” I asked.

“It’s just worded weird, I’m trying to figure out what it’s asking for.”

I sat down next to him, reading the question. “It’s asking for the speed of the train.”

“Right, but I have to find the speed of the car first, don’t I?”

“Yeah, and then you multiply by two.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

He worked on the question, so I laid down on the couch, head on the arm of it, legs curled up, so I didn’t bother Peter.

“You seem tired.”

“I just don’t wanna work on my art homework anymore. I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

He finished the problem, and got up, going to the kitchen. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something before we do anything?”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good to me.” I sat up.

He brought back two glasses of water from the kitchen, and then turned on the TV. We ended up watching a nature documentary. I leaned against Peter shoulder as the documentary went on, only half-unintentionally.

As the narrator was talking about koala eating patterns, I realized Peter was staring at me. I turned to look at him.

“What?”

He leaned in and kissed me, pushing me back onto the couch. I giggled a little against his lips, sliding my hands around his neck.

Part of me was hoping it’d be like yesterday, when he was kissing me softly and gently and it wasn’t so heated.

But that wasn’t the case. It was heated right off the bat.

I didn’t _really_ mind, if I was being honest with myself.

One of his hands slipped under my shirt, sliding over my skin. I found myself lifting off the couch, trying to press into him.

He broke the kiss, mumbling, “Let’s go to my room.”

Between us, I was kind of hesitant. I’d rather stay on the couch and make out and watch nature documentaries. But he seemed kind of excited, and I knew it’d be fun, so I went with him.

Once we were in his room, I made him sit on the edge of the bed, and started to unbutton his jeans, kneeling in front of him.

“You’re gonna have to give me pointers as I go,” I told him, pulling down his jeans a little. “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

His voice was strained as he spoke, “Yeah- yeah, I can…do that.”

I pulled his boxers down, and glanced up at him. “You’re good with this?”

He nodded, barely breathing. “Yeah. Mhm.”

I was a little proud of myself, just for having that effect on him.

I lowered my head, giving a couple slow, experimental licks. Peter’s hands found their way into my hair, twirling fingers around locks and pulling gently. I took his full…length, in my mouth, praying I didn’t gag.

I didn’t. Weird.

It was harder than I realized it’d be. There was just…a lot to think about. Like what do you do with your hands? Do you just rest them on your thighs? Is there something you’re supposed to do with them? And what’s the right amount of saliva? It couldn’t be too little, or it’d be too dry and he wouldn’t enjoy it, but if there was too much I’d end up drooling or something.

This was stressful.

I tried to clear my mind and just…go with instinct. Were there instincts for this?

I bobbed my head up and down, keeping my tongue flat against him, trying to find a rhythm.

Peter moaned, softly, just enough to remind me that I should probably get out of my head and try to enjoy this.

Which, in a weird way, I kind of was. Not because sucking dick was a super enjoyable activity, my jaw was getting sore and this was overall just a weird position to be in. But because Peter was enjoying himself, moaning and pulling at my hair. I could feel his pulse under my tongue, speeding up as time went on.

“MJ,” he muttered, sounding wrecked. “Can you- faster- can-”

I sped up, bobbing my head faster, trying to ignore the growing dizziness that was coming with it.

Peter tugged at my hair, moaning louder and louder. “Em, I’m- I’m gonna-”

I panicked for a second. I couldn’t pull away, he’d come all over himself, and that’d be messy. If he came in my mouth, though, I’d either have to get up, go to the bathroom, and spit into the sink, or swallow.

And then he was coming, and I hadn’t quite made up my mind, so I just…swallowed.

When I pulled away, Peter was staring at me.

“Did- did you?”

I nodded.

“Oh.”

He blinked a few times, then pulled his boxers and jeans back up, rebuttoning.

“Come up on the bed,” he said, tilting his head at me.

I shrugged. “You don’t have to do anything, I didn’t do anything for you yesterday, so-”

“I wanna,” he said. “I don’t know, you were…really good, and I wanna reciprocate.”

Well, telling me I did a good job kind of stroked my ego, so I got up on the bed. He pushed me onto my back, slowly, and crawled on top of me, kissing me.

A very, very small voice in the back of my head told me to stop his hand when he started to push it under my waistband. But I couldn’t do that. He told me he wanted this.

I thought of all the times I told Uncle Antonio no, and how much worse it had been afterwards.

So I tried to relax, and let Peter continue.

\---

I wouldn’t say I regretted it. It had felt good, and I came, so there was nothing to complain about. And now Peter and I were laying in bed, cuddling. So, really, it’d been worth it.

He had his arms wrapped loosely around me, forehead pressed to mine. He’d fallen asleep about twenty minutes ago.

“I love you,” I whispered, gently kissing him. He didn’t react, thank goodness.

I let myself relax, and fell asleep.


	6. i can be needy

**Chapter Six**

_MJ_

I woke up in the morning feeling like hell. The dizziness from yesterday had returned, as well as some nausea.

Peter wasn’t next to me anymore, but I could hear the shower running across the hallway.

Right. We had school today.

I started to try to get up, but just felt like I was gonna puke if I did.

This was…not good.

Dad was out of town, but if he noticed I missed school, I would definitely get the belt. Or worse.

So I had to go.

_Peter_

I got out of the shower and went back into my room, drying my head with a towel. I was expecting MJ to have gone back to her apartment, or at least be up, but she was still laying in my bed, face buried in a pillow.

“Good morning.”

She groaned. “I feel like shit.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, touching her arm. She was burning. “MJ, take the pillow off of your face.”

“No, I’m dizzy.”

“You don’t have to open your eyes, I just wanna feel your forehead.”

Reluctantly, she pulled the pillow away, and I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead.

She definitely had a fever.

“I’m gonna ask May to call me in. We’re staying home today.”

“No, I can’t miss school.”

“MJ-”

“I’m not missing school, Peter. I’m fine.” She sat up, slowly, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re driving, though.”

“I don’t have a car-”

“Use mine.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “You should stay home. You’re not gonna learn anything if you feel this sick, anyways.”

She shook me off, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t have an absence show up on my attendance record.”

Against my better judgement, I let her go upstairs to get ready for school, meeting her in the elevator on the way down to the parking garage.

\---

I made sure someone was always with MJ all day, whether it was Ned, Betty, Mr. Harrington. Someone had to keep an eye on her, and I didn’t have any classes with her today.

However, I went to the bathroom during second, and saw her sitting on the floor in the hallway, back against the lockers, eyes closed, skin green.

I went over and touched her arm. She was on fire.

“MJ,” I said softly. She barely reacted. Her eyes stayed closed, and she mumbled something I couldn’t make out. “Okay, we’re going to the nurse’s office.”

I scooped her up, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder.

When I started to walk, she scrunched up her face. “Dizzy,” she mumbled. “Slow down.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her, slowing down.

It took an extra few minutes, but we made it to the nurse’s office. The nurse wasn’t in there at the moment, but one of the office ladies told me to take MJ in anyways.

I set MJ down in one chair, and sat down next to her. She rested her head on my shoulder.

“Thanks for bringing me.”

“Yeah, of course.”

The nurse came in a few minutes later, asked me about her symptoms, took her blood pressure and temperature, all of that good stuff. MJ had a fever of 103, which was…not ideal, and her blood pressure was remarkably low.

The nurse brought in a cot, and she and I helped MJ up onto it.

“Can you stay with her?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

And then she dimmed the lights and left the room.

MJ closed her eyes. “I’m missing English.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

I rubbed her shoulder. “You’re still marked present,” I told her. “You’re in the school.”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at me. “I’m still missing class. Whether or not that shows up on paper-”

“Em, relax.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“Is this about you being scared of your dad?” I asked, quietly, scared she’d mad.

She just looked confused. “What?”

“I just- maybe I jumped to conclusions, but you’ve said a couple things about him and you flinch too easily sometimes and…it’s a lot of little things, I guess.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “You can’t tell anyone that.”

“Why are you so scared of him?”

“He’s just…scary. That’s all it is. Can we drop this?”

“Em-”

“Drop it, Peter.”

I looked at the floor. “I was just gonna promise not to tell anyone.”

There was a long pause, and then she mumbled a soft apology.

I called May, just to tell her why I was missing class.

She picked up after the second ring. “Hey, sweetie, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. MJ’s sick, though, so I’m staying with her in the nurse’s office until she feels better.”

“Okay, just get Ned to give you the notes so you don’t fall too far behind. Is MJ alone tonight?”

“Uh, one second.” I covered my phone mic. “When does your dad get home?”

“Next week, I think.”

I uncovered the mic. “Yeah.”

“Tell her she’s staying the night so I can keep an eye on her and take her to a doctor if we need to. I gotta go, sweetie, I’m really busy, but I’ll be home earlier tonight.”

“Sounds good. See you tonight, May.”

“I love you, Peter.”

“Love you, too.”

I hung up, putting my phone back in my pocket. MJ was staring at me.

“What?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me.”

She hesitated, and then spoke slowly and softly, like she was embarrassed. “I can’t remember the last time I had a phone call like that. Usually if I’m on the phone with my dad, he’s yelling at me.”

I made a mental note to tell May to bring the TLC up several notches.

_MJ_

Peter ended up staying the whole day with me, and driving us home after the last bell rang.

“You know you’re staying with May and I tonight, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

He parked my car in the parking garage, and we got out. I braced myself against the side of the car, trying not to show how dizzy I still was. He couldn’t carry his books and my books and be worried about me being able to walk.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

We walked back into the building, and I walked just behind him so he didn’t notice me swaying a little as I walked. I didn’t know if he actually didn’t notice, or if he pretended not to for my sake, but either way, I made it all the way into the elevator before I started to fall over. I caught myself on the wall as the door closed.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve got it, Peter.”

I leaned against the wall, breathing deep the whole way up to Peter’s floor.

“You look a little green, are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded, ignoring my stomach as it did Olympic-level flips and twists.

We got to his floor, and went to his apartment. He struggling to unlock the door with his arms full of books, but he refused to let me help.

The second the door was unlocked, I rushed to his bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet.

“MJ?” He rushed in after me, sitting next to me as I started to throw up. He pulled my hair back, gathering it in one hand and rubbing my back with the other. My back was still sensitive from last week, but it wasn’t too bad.

I’d checked this morning when I’d gone upstairs. My back wasn’t infected, so I was probably just sick from stress or a virus.

My stomach eased for a moment, and I panted, catching my breath.

“I’m okay,” I said, trying to convince myself more than Peter.

He rubbed my back, shifting closer to me. “Do you think you’re good to go into the living room?”

I shook my head. “I still feel like I’m gonna throw up again.”

I tried to focus on him, rather than my stomach’s gymnastics. His hand was gentle, rubbing up and down along my spine, and I tried to pay more attention to that than the barf in the toilet bowl in front of my face.

After a few minutes, my stomach seized, and I threw up again. I threw up the last of what was in my stomach, and dry heaved painfully. I waited for it to let up, and then sat back on my heels, grabbing a handful of toilet paper and wiping my mouth with it and tossing it into the toilet.

“I’m good,” I mumbled. Peter pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight. I was too tired and foggy to fight it or question it. I leaned into him, trying to catch my breath as I closed my eyes.

He held me until I’d caught my breath, then helped me to my feet.

“You should brush your teeth, you’ll feel better,” he said softly, opening the cabinet next to the mirror and pulling out a spare toothbrush, tearing it out of the cardboard for me. “Plus, you know, the stomach acid won’t erode your teeth.” He squirted some toothpaste onto the brush, wetted it under water, and handed it to me.

I brushed my teeth while he flushed the toilet and sprayed some air freshener, to get rid of the smell of vomit. I scrubbed my teeth until Peter realized I’d been absentmindedly brushing for way too long, and stopped me. I rinsed out my mouth, and then he led me into the living room and sat me down on the couch.

“Tea or hot chocolate?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’ll throw it up.”

“You need fluid. I’ll make you some tea.”

He went into the kitchen. I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I started to shiver.

When he came back with a mug of tea, I accepted it gladly, holding it close to my face so the steam warmed me up.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m okay. The tea is enough.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be back.”

Peter disappeared into his room, coming back with a big, fluffy blanket. He wrapped it around me, and then sat down next to me, turning on the TV.

“I should be doing homework-”

“Nope. You need to rest.”

“Peter-”

He turned up the volume on the TV.

_Peter_

She drank the whole mug of tea within half an hour, and then promptly passed out, head falling back on the cushions. I took the mug out of her hands and set it on the table, and then gently moved her from sitting up to laying across the couch, head in my lap. Sleeping the way she had been would’ve left her neck stiff, anyways.

I wished she’d stay home tomorrow, but I knew she wouldn’t.

As I was brushing some of her curls out of her face, May came in through the front door.

“Hey, how is she?”

“Sleeping.”

May came over and kissed my forehead. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Thank you.”

She went into her bedroom, and came out having changed out of her work clothes. May started dinner (by which I mean she cracked open a few cans of soup and warmed them up on the stove) and asked me a few questions about my day.

“No patrolling tonight?” she asked as she came over with two mugs full of soup, setting both on the coffee table.

I looked MJ, who was sleeping peacefully in my lap. “No, I think she needs me more.”

“I can take care of her, if you really want to patrol.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’ll stay with her.”

May gave me a sympathetic smile. “This is killing you a little, isn’t it?”

Stroking MJ’s hair, I nodded. “Just a little. Mostly because she just won’t take care of herself.”

“I know you love her, Peter, but just…try to protect your own heart a little, too, okay?”

I nodded again. “Okay.”

She ruffled my hair. “I’ll be in my room reading a little, let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you.”

May left, disappearing into her bedroom.

I stayed on the couch with MJ, and she woke up maybe ten minutes later. She groaned a little, sitting up.

“Hey,” she whispered. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long. May made some soup for us. Well, she heated up some canned soup.” I handed her the mug, and she took a sip.

“Not bad.”

“She usually adds seasoning.”

MJ smiled drowsily. “My kind of woman.”

We watched some TV, and I made sure she had all of her soup.

By the time she was done her soup, she was yawning, barely managing to keep her eyes open.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“I haven’t even started my homework.”

“It can wait, MJ. You’re too tired to work effectively.”

She gave in easily this time, shrugging off the blanket and letting me take her to my room. I gave her a shirt and a pair of my sweatpants, and left the room, closing the door behind me.

I went into the living room and got my biology binder, taking it back into my bedroom once MJ opened the door.

“I’m gonna study in here, is that okay?”

She nodded as she crawled back into my bed.

My pillow was gonna smell like honey for days.

She spread out in my bed, and I turned to my binder. I got through a few pages of notes before I heard a clicking noise.

I turned around, and saw MJ, now curled up tight in my blankets, shivering so hard her teeth were chattering.

Turning off my desk light and closing my binder, I crawled into bed with her.

“I’ll get you sick.”

“You need to stay warm,” I responded, pulling her into my arms.

“I’ll get you sick,” she repeated, despite relaxing against my body.

“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”

She wrapped her arms around my midsection and pressed her face into my chest.

May came by a few minutes later to check on us. She eased the door open, slowly and crept in.

“Hey, I just came to say goodnight,” she whispered, leaning over and stroking MJ’s hair, keeping it out of her face. “Do you want me to call you two in for tomorrow?”

“I don’t know yet. If she’s not feeling any better, maybe.”

“Okay. Door open, got it?”

“Got it.” It’s not like we were inclined to fool around right now.

“Goodnight, sweetie.”

She pushed my hair back away from my face, and kissed my forehead, before leaving my room. She half-closed the door behind her.

I turned back to MJ, who was shifting a little in my arms. She was still awake, pretending to be asleep.

“Hey, you need anything?”

She mumbled a soft, “No.”

“Sleep tight,” I whispered into her hair.

“G’night.”

She was asleep within a minute, and I buried my face in her hair, kissing the top of her head.

I was drifting off before I knew it, too.

_MJ_

When I woke up in the morning, Peter was already awake, but he was still cuddling me.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

For a split second, I let myself imagine that he loved me.

He was gently stroking my hair, hugging me tight against his body.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Better,” I told him honestly.

“Do you wanna take a sick day anyways and get some more rest?”

I wanted to give in so badly. I wanted to lay in bed like this all day, ignore my actual responsibilities, cuddle with the boy of my dreams.

Fuck it. At some point, we wouldn’t be…like _this_ anymore, and I would lose these moments.

“Yeah,” I admitted sheepishly. “But can you ask May to call us in?”

He smiled. “I might’ve already asked her to.”

“Peter,” I groaned. “What if I’d said no?”

“I’d have asked her to call again. Go back to sleep.”

Couldn’t argue with that. I snuggled into him, and passed out.

\---

Again, Peter was stroking my hair when I woke up. I smiled a little against his chest.

“You’re still a little feverish,” Peter noted.

“Mm, I’m still cold.”

“Makes sense.”

I frowned a little. “I need a shower. And a protein bar.”

“You wanna take a shower while I get the first block notes from Betty?”

“I don’t wanna move, I’m comfy.”

Peter chuckled a little. “Alright.”

After a few moments, I gathered enough brain power to really think about the situation. He probably didn’t wanna be laying here with me. I was sick and…me.

I sat up, kind of suddenly, and Peter’s arms fell away.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna…go upstairs and take a shower. Do you wanna come upstairs in, uh, twenty minutes?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

I left the apartment and went up to my own. I took a shower, five minutes, cold water, as per my dad’s rules. After my shower, I put on my own clothes, despite desperately wanting to keep Peter’s shirt on.

As I was drying my hair, Peter knocked on the door. I turned off my blow dryer and opened the door.

He was carrying my books and my backpack.

“You forgot these downstairs.”

“Right. Sorry. Here.”

I reached out to take them from him, but he walked past me and set it all down in the living room anyways. “Your clothes from yesterday are in your backpack,” he told me, sitting down on the couch and making himself comfortable.

“Thanks.”

I pulled them out of my backpack and went into my room, tossing them into a hamper.

“So, how are you feeling?” he asked as I returned, sitting down next to him and pulling a binder into my lap.

“Less awful than yesterday, I guess. I don’t like that we’re missing school since there’s the field trip tomorrow, so we’re just not going to class this week.”

“There’s still-”

“We’re off Thursday and Friday, remember?”

“Right.”

He shifted closer to me, looking over my shoulder into my binder. Instinctively, I covered the doodles on the side of my notes with my hand.

“Wait, no, lemme see.”

“They’re stupid.”

“You’re just overly modest,” he said softly, gently nudging my hand away and looking at the doodles. “See? They’re pretty.”

I wasn’t looking at the doodles, I was looking at him. His eyes were narrowed just a little, and he was chewing the tip of his tongue, just a little.

Did he have to be so adorable all the time?

He pointed at one of the doodles. “I’d pay you paint that on my bedroom wall.”

I laughed, staring at it. It was a sketch of Spider-Man. I’d used a reference photo from the news, so he was mid-swing in it. But the suit patterns were off and I didn’t like the shading. “Yeah, okay, way to waste some money.”

“No, seriously, MJ.”

I looked at him, and he was already looking at me.

“I don’t know why you don’t think you’re talented. I can’t draw a smiley face without it being disproportionate.”

“That’s not true,” I countered.

“It kinda is.”

I laughed, softly, covering my mouth instinctively. “Let’s just, um, get started on the work.”


	7. feel frozen and alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k this one's really long so sorry about that but it's a rollercoaster of a chapter and i think you'll enjoy!

_Peter_

I stayed with her again that night. She tried to hide it, but she was still a little feverish.

Plus, it meant I got to hold her all night.

I didn’t get much sleep, though. She was having…fever dreams, or nightmares, something like that. She kept wiggling in my arms, whining and whimpering in pain. At first, I thought she was dreaming about her dad, but then she mumbled, “fuck off, Uncle Antonio.”

Her hands were balling up the fabric of my shirt, and she was crying. She kept trying to curl up, pull her knees up to her chest, but my body was in the way.

I wanted to wake her up, but I was frozen, watching her face twist in agony and body writhe next to mine.

“Stop touching me,” she whimpered, hands pulling at my shirt.

For a moment, I thought she meant me, so I let go of her and started to pull away.

That’s when she woke up. When her eyes opened, they were glassy, staring through me. She blinked a couple times, and then almost started to cry. Her bottom lip trembled and her breath was shaky and uneven, and I wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her that, whatever it is, it’s okay.

But she got up, turning away from me. “Sorry I woke you.” Her voice was a little deeper than usual, and even. She was overcompensating.

“MJ-”

She left her bedroom, door closing behind her.

I laid there for a couple minutes, in shock, maybe. Then I got up and left the room. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands locked together, eyes closed, breathing.

I didn’t want to interrupt, so I went back into her room.

She came in a couple minutes later, looking calmer.

“Hey, are you-”

Before I could finish the thought, she was crawling on top of me, lips landing on my jawline.

“MJ-”

“I don’t wanna talk,” she mumbled against my skin. Her lips grazed over me, and for a moment, I almost forgot what was going on.

I was gonna say something, but then she was kissing down my neck and her hand was sliding under my shirt, gliding over my stomach. I lost whatever thought I’d been formulating, and found myself gripping her waist. Her hand slipped lower on my stomach, until her fingers were dipping under the waistband of my sweatpants.

“Em,” I breathed, trying to lift her shirt a little.

“Don’t.” She moved my hands away. “Just relax.”

She rested her forehead on my shoulder as she untied the drawstring, pushing my sweatpants down. I lifted my hips to let her pull them down.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” she mumbled, kissing down my neck. “It’s almost stupid, that’s how fucking hot you are.”

It was a miracle I didn’t have a heart attack and die, there and then.

Her fingers dipped under my boxers, running over my skin, making me shiver.

“MJ,” I muttered, slipping my hands into her hair. She moved down on the bed, lifting my shirt to kiss my stomach. “MJ.” My voice sounded embarrassingly urgent and desperate, and I couldn’t be bothered to care. I was tired and she was killing me.

I lifted my hips again, and she pulled my boxers down. She kissed down my stomach, and I found myself squeezing my eyes shut, groaning. I was a few seconds away from begging.

“Peter,” she breathed, her fingers wrapping around me. “Tell me what you want.”

I tried to speak, but all I could do was get out desperate whimpers. I pushed her head down, and she took the hint, moving her hand away to prop herself up and licking at me, painfully slowly. I bit my lip, trying not to make too much noise. I was clenching my fists, pulling at her hair as I did. She moaned, taking me in her mouth as she did.

“Jesus, MJ,” I breathed, pulling her hair. She moved slower. I opened my eyes, looking at her, only to see her watching me with a raised eyebrow.

The…view. Seeing her between my legs with… _my dick in her mouth._

Again. Miracle I didn’t have a fatal heart attack.

I pushed her head down, gently, scared to choke her, but also struggling to think of the words I needed to tell her what I wanted.

She started moving faster, taking me in a little deeper. I let out a moan, pulling her hair again. She moaned, and I could feel the vibrations.

“Em.”

She moaned again, louder and longer, moving even faster.

It’d be so embarrassing if I came this soon, but, god, this was…so _good_. She was so good.

“Close,” I mumbled, barely coherent.

She moved even faster, her head bobbing fast enough that I was a little concerned for her comfort, humming. I groaned, tugging at her curls desperately.

_Hold on, Peter. Just for a minute. Hold on-_

My whole body felt like it turned to jelly. I was moaning MJ’s name, fists clenched impossibly tight as I came. She kept sucking as I did, swallowing thickly as she pulled away.

She pulled my boxers and sweatpants back up as I panted, soaking in the afterglow and trying to catch my breath. I could hear her breathing, too, but hers evened out much faster, almost like she forced herself to catch her breath.

“MJ,” I huffed, pulling her towards me. She laid down next to me, playing with my hair. I closed my eyes.

This might’ve been the most relaxed I’d ever been.

Her fingers curled around locks of my hair, pulling my hair as she untangled her fingers, only to do the same thing again. It was so soothing.

I started to drift off before I realized I hadn’t reciprocated.

“Mmm, Em, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Peter, just go to sleep.”

“But I-”

“I don’t want you to do anything,” she whispered. “Not tonight.”

“But then it’s not fair,” I insisted.

“You can owe me an orgasm, then. Go to sleep.”

I sighed, curling up in her arms. I rested my head on her upper chest, wrapping my arms around her waist and back, and she kept playing with my hair until I fell asleep.

_MJ_

I couldn’t go back to sleep.

For one thing, I was overwhelmingly turned on, but the thought of someone touching me after that dream made me wanna puke.

For another, that dream. It wasn’t even a dream so much as a terrible memory.

I wished so badly that I could forget that day. I couldn’t get it out of my head, now that I’d had the dream. And I knew that if I’d let Peter touch me, I’d just feel Uncle Antonio’s hands, hear his voice, and I’d wanna crawl under the bed and die there.

I’d been six. It was directly after my mom’s funeral. And my dad had left me with Uncle Antonio and a box of Trojans in the back seat of a car outside the funeral home.

_“Please don’t touch me.”_

Sometimes I still felt as small as I had in that moment. It was the worst feeling on Earth.

_“Michelle, it’s not up to you.”_

I played with Peter’s hair, trying to focus on him rather than the voice that sent uneasy shivers down my spine.

His lips were parted, just a little, a tiny bit of drool pooled on my shirt. His eyelashes were so long and dark and curly that it made me legitimately jealous, because mine didn’t even look like that when I curled them and used mascara.

My nose and eyes started to sting, as much as I didn’t wanna cry. I hated it. I wanted to be able to close my eyes and sleep as peacefully as Peter was. But if I closed my eyes, I saw Uncle Antonio as he pulled that tiny black dress off of me.

_“If you’re a good girl, I can talk your dad into taking you for ice cream on the way home.”_

He never took me for ice cream. It didn’t matter how quiet or obedient I was, he never took me for ice cream.

Tears started to fall down my cheeks. I refused to make any noise as I cried, though.

There was a very important, incredibly beautiful boy sleeping here, and I’d never forgive myself if I woke him up.

Besides, it’s not like he’d care. He didn’t come to check on me earlier when I left the room.

\---

I woke Peter up gently, a few minutes before the alarm went off. My alarm was loud and blaring, and I didn’t want it to spook him.

He blinked his eyes open, pulling his arms out from under me to rub them.

“Morning,” he groaned.

“We should get up. We have to be at school fifteen minutes early because of the field trip.”

“Right. That’s…important.” He looked at me, eyes clearer now. “How much sleep did you get?”

“Enough,” I shrugged.

I wanted to stay here and cuddle so badly, but I also knew we were going to the Avengers compound on our field trip, today, and knowing our teacher, we might very well get tested on it.

So I didn’t stop him when he got up, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted a little, exposing some of his muscles.

And now I couldn’t get last night out of my head in a different way than before.

“I’m gonna head downstairs to get ready. Do you need me to drive again?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you want to?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “It’s a nice car, Em.”

I grabbed my keys off my nightstand and tossed them at him. “I’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour.”

He grinned. “Thanks. You’re awesome.”

He practically bounced out of the apartment.

I hit my alarm clock, turning it off just before it started to blare at me, and got up.

_Peter_

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick-”

“Hey, kid.”

I almost dropped my phone. “H-hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Morning, Peter. What’s going on?”

“Do you, um, have a minute to talk? I need some advice.” I was pacing my room anxiously, running one hand through my hair over and over.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, you have to promise not to tell May, because…you know May.”

“Peter, is everything okay?” Mr. Stark asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just…you know that girl MJ I was talking to you about last month?” I squeezed my eyes shut. God, I sounded like a ninth-grader.

“The one you’re head over heels for?”

“Okay, so, we’ve been, um, hooking up.”

_“What?”_

“I know, I know, it’s bad-”

“No, Peter, that’s awesome. You told her how you feel?”

I hesitated. “Well, that’s what’s bad about it-”

There was a heavy sigh, distorted by the phone. “So you’re casually screwing around with the girl you’re in love with.”

“Yes.”

“Jesus Christ, Peter, and I thought your Vulture stunt was suicide. Okay, you gotta tell her at some point.”

“That’s actually…there’s something else.”

“What?”

“I think…her dad’s abusive. I don’t- I don’t know exactly, but she’s scared of him, and sometimes she has bruises, and he’s the only person she lives with. And then she was having a nightmare or something last night, and she said something about her-her uncle, and then said to stop touching her.”

“In her sleep?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence, and for a moment, I was scared he’d hung up. But then he said, “You have to talk to her about it.”

“I tried to, she walked out on me. And then she walked back in and…there wasn’t a lot of talking.”

“That’s-that’s too much information, kid, I-”

“No, I just…I think something happened to her.”

Another long silence. “That’s a…reasonable deduction. Okay, um, you’re staying for dinner with Pepper and the baby and I tonight, right?”

“Yeah?” I was confused. What did dinner have to do with this?

“I’m gonna invite her to stay, too. Hopefully that’ll give you a chance to talk to her.”

Oh, boy. “Wait, Mr. Stark, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll get extra condoms, too. You don’t need a baby until you’re at least my age.”

 _Click_.

That last sentence made me wanna crawl in a hole and die, but okay.

I got my books together, made sure I had MJ’s car keys, and then stepped out of the apartment. MJ was already on her way down the hall towards me. She saw me and stopped, so I jogged to catch up.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked as I caught up and we started walking towards the elevator.

She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“I, uh, Mr. Stark might wanna meet you,” I said nervously.

An eyebrow shot up. “What did you tell him about me?”

“Well, I ended up telling him about decathlon and how you’re captain and how we can’t really tell anybody about our arrangement and-”

She stopped walking, staring at me. “You told Anthony Edward Stark that we’re fuckbuddies? Really, Peter?”

Oh. She was mad. “Well, I just-”

“So now one of the richest, most powerful, most influential men on Earth, thinks I’m a slut. Thanks.”

“Wait, no, that’s not-”

She brushed past me, bumping my shoulder.

“MJ, that’s not- I told him because I was worried about you!”

She didn’t say anything, just kept walking towards the elevator. I jogged to catch up, again.

“Listen, if anybody would know what it’s like to be scared of their father, it’s Mr. Stark, okay? I just wanted to help.”

“I don’t need your help. I’ve managed on my own this long, I can manage until I’m at NYU or MIT or Oxford or something.”

We got to the elevator, so she had to wait next to me for the doors to open.

“Last night was-”

“A non-event, Peter.”

“You had a nightmare, then shut me out and deflected by…going down on me.”

She sighed. “I didn’t wanna talk about it, okay? And…I had fun.”

“Well, yeah, me too, but-”

She snorted. “Yeah, of course you had fun, Peter. You had a girl suck your dick and didn’t have to do anything in return. That’s every seventeen-year-old boy’s dream.”

“I wanted to do something in return,” I told her. “I have fun doing that, too.”

She looked at me, eyes widening as she searched mine. It felt like…a moment.

And then the doors dinged and opened, and she looked away, getting into the elevator. I stepped in after her.

“I’m sorry. I just…Mr. Stark’s the only person I can talk to about any of this, okay? I can’t talk to May about it, and I can’t tell Ned or anything because I don’t want him to accidentally tell the whole school. I don’t know, Mr. Stark’s kind of like my dad.”

She hit the button for the parking garage. “So, that’s the kind of thing that you would talk to your dad about?”

I looked at her, feeling my fingers and toes go cold. “I’d tell my dad everything if I could.”

Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Yeah.”

“No, I’m really sorry.”

“No, I know. It’s different for you.”

“Yeah.”

She stared at the ground, looking all guilty and sad. I couldn’t stand it.

“Come here.”

I pulled her into my arms, sliding my arms under her backpack. She did the same, letting her face rest on my shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

My chest stung as I heard the remorse in her voice.

“I know. It’s okay.”

I hugged her as tight as I could, for as long as I could, only pulling away when we got down to the parking garage.

We got into her car, and I drove us to school.

_MJ_

When we got to school, we had to check in with our teachers, and then let them know we were driving to the compound in my car and sign a form acknowledging that we were responsible for our own transportation and if we got hurt it wasn’t the school’s fault and blah blah blah.

Peter was hesitant to sign until I whispered into his ear, “Contracts signed by minors aren’t admissible in court.” And then he scribbled his signature next to mine and handed the form into the teacher in charge of the field trip.

Then we got back in my car and headed upstate.

The first fifteen minutes were…quiet. I’d turned on the radio on a low volume, and I stared out the window as Peter drove. It was kind of nice, at least in comparison to the bus. I could deal with mild awkward tension in exchange for peace and quiet.

You would think it’d be fine, since we hugged it out in the elevator. But we’d said nothing between then and when I’d whispered in his ear, and his hair had been standing up on the back of his neck and his arms since then. He wouldn’t make eye contact now, much less speak to me.

It was fine. The radio was playing some good music, and it was a nice drive. I didn’t even have the focus on the road, I could look out the window and watch.

It’d been a while since I’d gotten to just relax while someone else drove.

“MJ?” he said, voice soft.

“Mhm?” I looked up at him.

“I’m sorry I pushed you about last night. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“I know. You’ve said so.”

“I didn’t really think about it then. But I can relate to wanting that relationship and wanting to tell them everything and…they’re not there.”

He glanced over at me, briefly, and then turned back to the road. “I’m lucky, though. I have May, and Mr. Stark.”

I smiled a little, despite myself. “You’re right. You’re lucky.”

“You know you have me, right?” His voice was gentle and sincere.

My eyes stung. Because, no, I didn’t have him, not in the way I wanted.

_Peter_

“You know you have me, right?” I asked. Because she did. She had my whole heart and she didn’t even know it. I was trying to tell her, kind of. Trying.

But she just stared at me with glassy eyes.

“Seriously, you can come downstairs whenever you need to, and I’ll listen or-or hug you or…whatever you need, Em. You have me.”

She nodded, silently turning back to watch out the window.

_You have me. In every single way, you have me._

_MJ_

When we got to the compound, Peter drove around to the back, parking in a staff spot. As we got out of the car, he picked up his phone.

“What’s your license plate?”

“M-A-J, zero six fourteen.”

He typed in the license plate. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure Happy knew so you don’t get ticketed or something. I didn’t bring my parking pass.”

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

“Come on, I think we’re early.”

And we were. Pepper Potts was standing at the front, talking into her phone. When she saw Peter and I, she said a quick goodbye and hung up.

“Hey, Ms. Potts!”

“Good morning, Peter.”

They exchanged a quick hug, and then Ms. Potts looked at me.

“Oh, um, this is my friend MJ.”

She reached out and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, MJ. I’m Pepper.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” I could hear my voice getting smaller. I felt smaller. It was a big building, and she was an important person. I forced a small smile, though.

“Tony and I have heard a lot about you.”

I raised an eyebrow at Peter. “Oh?”

“Just that you’re super smart and decathlon captain and stuff like that,” Peter cut in, shooting Pepper a look before smiling at me.

“Oh, there’s still some breakfast leftover from this morning, I can get the guys to bring some for you two if you’re hungry.”

I was about to say not to bother, I was fine, but my stomach growled. I sighed.

Peter smiled at Pepper. “What’s for breakfast?”

_Peter_

When our classmates showed up, MJ and I were sitting on a bench outside, eating bagels. Ned made a beeline for us.

“Hey, where’d you get the bagels?”

“Pepper grabbed ‘em for us,” I responded, covering my mouth so I didn’t spew bagel everywhere.

“Aw, and we missed it?”

“Here, Ned,” MJ said, holding out the second half of her bagel. “Go nuts.”

“You’re the best!” He took the bagel out of her hand, grinning.

MJ was smiling, too. It even reached her eyes.

Once the last of our classmates had arrived in their cars, Ms. Potts came outside and led us in.

As we passed a door that said “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” MJ nudged me with her elbow.

“Do you happen to know what’s behind that door?” she teased.

“It leads into a lab,” I answered. “Wanna see?”

She stared at me, wide eyed. “Are you allowed to do that?”

“I’m authorized personnel.” I caught Ms. Potts’ eye and pointed at the door, and she gave me a short nod. “Come on.”

MJ followed me as we split off from the group, and we went into the lab.

“So, fun fact,” I said, kind of nervously. “This is actually the lab I work in.”

“What?”

“Yeah, here, I’ll show you.”

I turned on the big, overhead lights. Right next to the door was a shelf and a couple of hooks. On one of the hooks was my lap coat.

“Whoa, it has your name on it,” MJ remarked, pulling the fabric to straighten it out.

“And, um, you know how Flash keeps joking about me not knowing Spider-Man and all of that stuff?” I asked, wondering why I was saying any of this. I went over to the desk and reached up on one of the shelves, pulling down a jar labelled “web fluid”.

“Do you make this stuff?” she asked. Her hand twitched, like she wanted to reach out to it, so I held it out for her. She took it, tentatively turning it over. “It doesn’t look like spiderwebs.”

“It’s a process. The web shooters do most of the work.”

She grinned. “This is so cool.” She glanced up, noticing the door on the other side of the lab. “Hey, what’s that go to?” She was like a kid in a candy shop, like I was when Mr. Stark first showed me this lap. It was adorable.

“Oh, there’s a big storage closet with a lot of ingredients in bulk,” I said. “All the labs have one.”

“Okay, I hope you know I’d kill for this.”

I smiled. “I’m sure if you asked Mr. Stark really nicely, he’d give you a lab.”

She laughed. “I’m not nearly as good at chemistry as you are. Remember how I spilled sulfuric acid all over myself during the titration lab at the beginning of the year?”

I laughed with her. “That doesn’t mean you’re bad at it. Come on, we should rejoin the group.”

\---

The rest of the day went like that. We’d split off from groups so I could show her cool things. At one point, just as we were about to split off, Mr. Stark came up behind Ms. Potts. A couple of the kids paled, starstruck.

Who was I kidding? I still got starstruck.

“You guys are from Midtown, right?”

Ms. Potts nodded as there were a few murmured “yeah”s from the group.

_Oh, no. I know where this is going._

“So does that mean my favourite intern is in the crowd?”

MJ nudged me, smirking smugly.

“Right here!” Ned said, pointing at me.

I sighed. As much as I loved my friends, they sucked.

“Come on up so I can brag about you a little, Peter.”

I hesitated, glancing at MJ for support. She pushed me towards the front, so I gave in, walking up and standing with Mr. Stark. He put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing.

“Peter here is the most intelligent, hard-working, amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” Ms. Potts protested, shooting me a smile so I knew she was joking.

“Apart from my beautiful wife, of course,” Mr. Stark added.

“I have a question!” Flash shouted from the back. “It’s about Parker.”

“Sure,” Mr. Stark responded.

“Does he really know Spider-Man?”

“Of course Peter does. Right, kid?”

I nodded, swallowing thickly, imagining all the ways Flash was gonna use this against me.

I glanced and MJ, and she and Ned were grinning smugly.

_Glad everyone else is enjoying my discomfort._

“Alright, guys, enjoy the rest of the tour. Love you, Pepper, Peter, see you two later. Bye!”

He gave Pepper a peck and squeezed my shoulder one more time. I rejoined MJ, Ned, and Betty.

“I’m gonna go back to my lab and drink some bleach,” I grumbled, ignoring the smirk I was getting from Flash.

“Aw, come on, Peter, that was adorable family fun,” MJ teased.

“And you just got a glowing Yelp review,” Betty added.

“See? I told you Mr. Stark loves you,” Ned chimed in. “Now you just gotta put in a good word for me as your guy in th- the lab. Lab assistant. That’s what job you should get me.”

MJ and Betty glanced at each other, but Betty made a quiet comment about Ned being starstruck, and they shook it off.

\---

At the end of the field trip, Ms. Potts had to talk to our teachers so MJ and I could stay here, rather than go all the way back to the school and all the way back here. It took some convincing, but after she pulled the I’m-the-CEO-of-a-multi-billion-dollar-company-AND-a-mother-I-can-keep-a-couple-of-teenagers-safe card, the teachers let it go.

After everyone had cleared out, the nanny found us, carrying Morgan.

“Thank you, Jenny. Have a good night.” Ms. Potts took Morgan out of the nanny’s arms, smiling at the baby as she did.

“You too, Ms. Potts.” The nanny gave me a polite smile before she left.

I watched as MJ’s eyes went wide at the sight of the baby.

“MJ, this is baby Morgan,” Pepper said. “She’s only a couple weeks old, so all she does right now is puke and poop and cry.”

“She’s beautiful,” MJ whispered, stepping closer.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

MJ stepped back, lifting her hands in surrender, just a little. “Oh, no, I’m okay. I’m not great with babies.”

Ms. Potts smiled. “Yeah, I’m usually not fantastic with them either. Morgan’s the exception, luckily for me.”

MJ chucked a little, still looking adoringly at the baby.

“Why don’t you show MJ up to your room?” Ms. Potts suggested. “Dinner should be ready in a couple hours, I’ll page you down then.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

I led MJ through the compound, taking the long way so I could show her the medical wing, the training gyms, workshops and labs.

When we got to my room, I got a phone call.

“It’s from Ned, I’ll be right back.”

I left MJ in my room and stepped outside, answering the call.

“Hey.”

“Hey, is it just me, or did you and MJ stay behind at the compound?” Ned asked.

“Mhm.”

“Dude, what gives? Suddenly she’s staying for dinner? Did you guys start dating? Did I miss something?”

“No, no no no, nothing’s going on,” I said hurriedly. “I just…talked to Mr. Stark about her a little too much and he went over my head to invite her to dinner.”

“Man, so you guys aren’t dating? Then why have you been spending so much time together lately?”

“We haven’t spent _that_ much time together.”

“You carpooled to the compound, not to mention she’s been quizzing you at lunch in the library, and didn’t you have dinner at her place a little while ago?”

“We’ve just been getting closer, I guess. I don’t know, Ned, nothing’s going on. It’s just that you and Betty started dating and spending a lot of time together, and that kind of pushed MJ and I to hang out more.”

“Mkay, well, I expect to be the first to know if you take her into that ridiculously luxurious room of yours and make out with her against a wall.”

I laughed. “In my dreams. See you, Ned.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and went back into my room. MJ was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking around.

“I have so many questions,” she said.

“Shoot.”

“First off, what the heck is this bed made out of? It feels like a mattress from heaven.”

I shrugged. “I can ask Mr. Stark for you.”

“Also, what’s in all those cabinets under the TV?”

I opened the doors, to reveal a vast array of gaming consoles.

“Holy shit, that cabinet is probably worth more than my car,” MJ remarked.

“You wanna play a game?”

“I’m gonna suck, but sure.”

So, for the next two hours, we sat cross-legged on my bed, playing a shooter against each other. I tried to go easy on MJ, but she wasn’t used to the controls, so I beat her consistently for the first hour. After that, though, she managed to pick up a bit of a rhythm, and beat me in a couple rounds.

Just as she was about to beat me, FRIDAY announced that dinner was ready, so I paused the game.

“Oh, come on, hit play and lose fairly,” she complained.

“Don’t wanna keep everyone waiting,” I teased, taking her controller and putting it on top of the cabinet. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

_MJ_

Peter led me down to the dining room. When we got there, Mr. Stark was just walking in, and Pepper was already at the table, holding the baby.

“You must be MJ,” Mr. Stark said, approaching Peter and I. “I’m Tony.”

“Hi,” I squeaked, shaking his hand. This was a really bad time to get star struck.

“How come she gets to be on a first name basis but I don’t?” Peter whined jokingly.

“Hey, kid, you still work for me,” he teased, ruffling Peter’s hair lovingly. “Anyways, MJ, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot.”

I shot Peter a lot. “Oh, I know.”

Peter shrank a little, giving me a sheepish and apologetic look.

“Alright, that looks like a fun conversation for you two to have after dinner. Let’s sit down.”

Tony sat down next to Pepper, Peter sitting on the other side of her.

“Hey, I can take the baby for a bit so you can eat,” he offered as I sat down next to him.

She shook her head. “Eat first, then maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

A few employees came out with plates for us, setting them down in front of us. Peter looked kind of uncomfortable, thanking the employees several times.

I smiled. He was so sweet.

“So, MJ, tell me about yourself,” Tony said, digging into his meal.

“Um, what do you wanna know?”

“What’s your family like?”

Peter’s head snapped up. I answered before he could say anything.

“Well, I live with my dad. It’s just the two of us, really.”

He raised an eyebrow, encouraging me to say more.

“My mom passed away when I was six, and so it’s been just…me and my dad ever since. He’s got a sister, and so we see my aunt and uncle sometimes, but not that frequently anymore.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sorry about your mom, kiddo.”

I shrugged. “It was eleven years ago. I’m okay.”

Tony kept asking me questions, like what I was doing after high school, what my hobbies were, stuff like that.

“Okay, so you said the plan was to get a business degree and then take over your dad’s department. What would you do if that weren’t the plan?”

I hesitated. “You mean, like, if I had a real choice in the matter?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d go to med school. I like biology and human systems, I think I’d be good at it.”

“Really?” Peter asked. I nodded. “I didn’t know that.”

I shrugged, again. “What’s the point of talking about something that isn’t going to happen anyways?”

Tony nodded. “She’s got a point. Although, MJ, if you want my advice, I’d say you’re better off doing something you have a passion for, rather than being your dad’s puppet.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t really afford that, and I don’t mind business, anyways.”

Peter shovelled the last of his food into his mouth, and then turned to Pepper. Pepper chuckled a little, handing over Morgan.

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. He cradled the baby in his arms, adjusting the baby’s head so it was supported better.

I forced myself to turn back to my food so I didn’t stare.

I couldn’t help it, though. Over the course of the last half of dinner, I kept glancing at Peter and Morgan. He was cradling her in one arm, playing with her with the other, letting her grip one of his fingers or booping her nose. He was smiling, too, his whole face lighting up when she cooed at him. He kept speaking softly to her, voice pitching up when he did, and dropping when he addressed Tony or Pepper or I.

When we finished dinner, the table was cleared for us. It only made me mildly antsy, being told to let Tony and Pepper’s employees handle it.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, smiling. “It was amazing.”

“Glad you liked it, MJ.” Tony stood up and came around the table to Peter. “May I steal my daughter back?”

“Oh, right, you probably wanna spend some time with her,” Peter rambled. “See you, Morgan.”

He kissed her forehead before handing her back to Tony. Tony smiled at her, and he and Pepper left the dining area.

I just kept thinking about how cute Peter was with the baby.

“Wanna go back upstairs and finish the game?” he asked, standing up.

“Yeah, sure. I guess you’re in a hurry to lose.”

He laughed. “I let you win a couple times and suddenly you’ve got an ego.”

I elbowed him. “It’s not an ego, it’s healthy confidence.”

“Whatever you say.”

I followed him back up to his room, and we continued our game. He beat me easily, despite my aggressive grip on the controller and my yelling.

“Well, you have an advantage.”

He froze up a little. “What?”

“You’ve been playing this game much longer than I have.”

“Oh, come on, I would’ve let you beat me if you hadn’t been so cocky downstairs.”

“Sure, beat the newbie, that’s real chivalrous,” I teased, punching his arm playfully.

“Who said anything about chivalry?” He pushed me back onto the bed, tickling me. I laughed, trying to curl up.

“Peter!”

“Consider this loser’s punishment,” he joked, slipping his hands under my shirt to tickle bare skin. I pushed his shoulders, trying to roll us over, but he was surprisingly strong.

He was grinning at me, brown curls falling in front of his face. Suddenly, his hands on my stomach didn’t tickle, and I wasn’t laughing.

“What? Did I hurt you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I…is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks,” I said as he got off of me, sitting up. “I just…feel kinda gross. Being around high schoolers all day and all of that.”

He laughed. “Fair enough. Bathroom is through that door. I can get some clean clothes for you.”

“Thanks.”

I got up and went into the bathroom, stripping and getting into the shower. Despite the cold water, my head was still swimming with thoughts of Peter. The cute smile he gave Morgan, his hands on my waist a few moments ago…

I finished washing up and went to turn off the water, but my stupid hormones had a better idea.

“Peter!” I called, reaching out of the shower to unlock the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you wanna join me?”

He didn’t answer, so I’d accepted it was a no and went to turn off the water, but then he opened the door, averting his eyes so he wasn’t staring at my naked body through the glass shower.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you dork, get in here.”

He undressed as quickly as possible, yelping when he got into the shower.

“Why is the water so cold?”

“Hot water’s more expensive. I usually only shower for five-ish minutes anyways, so it’s not that bad.”

Peter stared at me as he turned the valve to a hotter temperature. “MJ, that’s five minutes of torture. Look at your arms, you’re covered in goosebumps.”

The water started to warm up. “It’s a waste, though. Cold water is better for your skin, anyways.”

“Okay, but hot water has benefits. Clears your sinuses, helps with headaches, all of that good stuff. Also, it feels nice.”

I hummed as it washed over me. “Yeah, it does,” I agreed. “Can’t argue with that.”

_Peter_

I think we stayed in the shower for twenty minutes, not even doing anything. MJ kept apologizing, but it was nice to see her relax a little. I ended up rubbing her shoulders and turning up the temperature.

When we got out, both of us were glowing pink.

“Sorry we didn’t do anything,” she said, wrapping a towel around her hair.

“It’s fine, MJ. Stop apologizing.”

“We can do something now, if you want,” she said.

I picked her up and set her on the counter, standing between her knees as I kissed her.

“That’s a yes?” she asked, lips brushing over mine.

“Mhm.”

I kissed her again, keeping my hands on top of her thighs until she moved one between her legs. As I started touching her, I realized she was shivering.

“Are you cold?” I murmured.

“A little, yeah.”

“Here.”

I picked her up again, and carried her back into my room, laying her back on the bed and situating myself between her legs.

Her whole body was glistening, her chest rising and falling as I got started, kissing her inner thighs. Given the angle, it was hard to see her face, but I could see her jaw move as she moaned.

“Still cold?” I asked, spreading her legs a little and sliding my arms under them to hook around her hips.

“No, I’m good. Keep-keep going.”

I started licking stripes between her legs, gently at first, applying more pressure as I went. Her thighs tensed, and her hands slid into my hair, pulling gently. I started swirling circles around her clit, going one way the first time, and the other way the next. I made a note of which way got a bigger reaction out of her.

Her chest wasn’t rising and falling normally anymore. Her breaths had turned to ragged gasps, punctuated by moans or mumbles of my name.

At this point, the way she said my name was half of why I wanted to do this. Her voice was all husky and hoarse, and she’d say my name so desperately, like I was the only person on Earth.

I had to start grinding into the bed, just so I didn’t feel like I was going to explode.

I suckled a little on her clit, and she bucked her hips, apologizing breathlessly afterwards. I tightened my grip on her hips, and suckled again, with a little more intention this time.

“ _Peter_ ,” she moaned. “Keep doing that. Please.”

I did, breaking every few seconds to lick upwards, slowly increasing intensity. She moaned, louder and louder, hips twitching and back arching.

“Fuck, Peter, you’re- I need- _please_ -”

I suckled longer, and her thighs squeezing my head and fingers pulling my hair as she cried out. I kept going until her muscles relaxed, then pulled away, gently. Her hands slipped out of my hair when I pulled away, landing on her lower stomach.

“Jesus, Peter. You’re getting better at that,” she breathed, smiling lazily.

“Thanks,” I muttered sheepishly.

The towel had unravelled around her hair, leaving limp curls that draped over her shoulders and spilled onto the bed. I was aware that, given her nakedness and my nakedness, I should probably be thinking about something a little more scandalous, but she was so beautiful it was breaking through the lust-induced brain fog.

“Peter, are you gonna let me…?”

Her breathing was almost normal now, and she raised an eyebrow at me.

“Right. Yeah. That’s…mhm.”

She giggled, sitting up, motioning for me to lay down against the headboard. I complied, watching her as she positioned herself between my legs, starting with her hand. Her thumb rubbed at the tip, and she watched me carefully. I tensed a little, unintentionally. She caught it, though.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no no no, don’t.”

“You’re freezing up,” she said, starting to pull her hand away.

“No, I’m just…MJ, please, I’m-”

She laughed. “I know. I’m just messing with you.”

With that, she lowered her head, starting off fast, rather than building. I let out a moan, my hands finding their way into her hair. It was still wet, slippery and soft under my hands.

“MJ,” I breathed. She responded by slowly pulling off, glancing at me, only to go back to it even faster.

Now my breathing was ragged and desperate. I let my head fall back against the headboard, closing my eyes to focus on the sensations. Her mouth was warm and wet, bobbing up and down too fast for my foggy brain to comprehend.

_Don’t come literally thirty seconds after she starts to blow you, Peter, you pathetic nerd._

She hummed, flattening her tongue against me. I let out another moan, louder this time, her name slipping past my lips at the end. I pulled on her hair, and she moaned, and that was it for me. I groaned as I came, and, like she usually did, she swallowed every last drop.

My body felt like a puddle on the bed. I couldn’t bring myself to get up, or get dressed. I took in a few deep breaths, trying to regulate my breathing.

“You’re getting better at that, too,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, I can tell, Mr. Minute Man,” she teased. “We should probably change your blanket, it’s pretty damp.”

I sighed, sitting up straight. “I’ll get a new blanket.”

“It’s okay, Peter, I can do it. Just tell me where to get one.”

There was the faintest twinge of anxiety in her voice. It made my chest hurt, where it’d been warm and full and happy a few moments ago.

“I’ve got it. You get dressed. You can steal my clothes.”

She didn’t like that, I could tell by her expression, but she got up and went to my closet, grabbing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She went back into the bathroom, so I quickly put on some clean clothes and left my room, going to the storage closet down the hall to grab a new comforter. I grabbed the first one I saw, and pulled it out.

“You two have a fun evening?”

I jumped. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Did you see what I left on your dresser?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, use them next time. I want you two to be safe.”

I shifted the comforter in my arms. “We weren’t…it wasn’t, like…”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“Good talk,” I mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed. I started to walk back to my room.

“Wait, Peter.”

I turned around.

“I know you don’t want to, but I think you should tell her how you feel.”

I snorted a little. “What exactly do I say? ‘Hey, MJ, I know we’ve been friends for years, and you’re my decathlon captain, but I’m in love with you, please date me’?”

Mr. Stark considered it. “Well, maybe I’ll help you draft a text. I just think if you told her, she’d tell you she felt the same.”

“Yeah, okay, in my dreams.”

“She looks at you like you’re her whole world.”

I actually laughed at that one, despite the fluttery feeling in my chest and stomach.

_No getting your hopes up, Peter._

_Yeah, too late._

“Peter, I’m serious. You were holding Morgan, and she was staring at you, giving you the exact same look you give her when she’s not looking.”

“I appreciate the pep talk, Mr. Stark, but I don’t think she feels that way about me.”

He shrugged. “Just keep it in mind. Have a good night, kid.” He ruffled my hair, giving me that signature, slightly lopsided smile.

“You too.”

I carried the comforter back to my room. When I got back, MJ had taken the first comforter off of the bed, folding it neatly and setting it down by my hamper.

“That took you longer than I expected.”

“Sorry, I ran into Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t be sorry. Here.”

She helped me put the comforter on the bed, then crawled under the covers. I crawled in next to her, pulling her towards me. She nestled in, smiling a little as I wrapped my arms around her.

Our foreheads were pressed together, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, legs tangled.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Tonight. Just in general. Dinner, the shower…after the shower.”

All I wanted to do was place a soft kiss on her lips, but I couldn’t do that. “Of course, MJ.”

Her breathing evened out soon after, heartrate dropping as she fell asleep.

“Goodnight,” I breathed, pulling away just enough to kiss her nose. “I love you.”


	8. i'll take the pleasure, take it with the pain

_ MJ _

Nothing happened between Peter and I for about a week, due to my dad’s presence. He ended up working from home starting Friday night, and either he wouldn’t let me go, or May wasn’t working that night. 

It gave me way too much time to think. 

Wednesday at lunch, I went up to Betty’s locker. 

“What are you doing after school today?” I asked. 

She shrugged. “Probably prepping for the competition next weekend.”

“Do you think you can take a study break to go to the mall with me?”

“Sure, what for?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I couldn’t lie about what we were going to the mall for, but I could lie about who it was about. 

“Do you remember Miles?” I asked hesitantly. 

“Morales? From Brooklyn?”

“Yeah.”

Betty eyed me skeptically. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, he and I have been talking again-”

“Please don’t tell me you’re using that boy to get over Peter-”

“Shhh!” I hushed, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Peter’s locker is right down the hall, you might as well announce it on the morning fucking news,” I hissed.

She held up her hands in surrender, and I lowered my hand. “You can’t use that boy to get over this one.”

“Spare me the lecture, okay? I’m fully aware that what I’m doing is a bad idea, can you just support me now and say ‘I told you so’ later?”

She sighed. “Fine. What are we buying?”

I bit my lip sheepishly. “I need something cute to wear…”

\---

“Okay, this one has softer lace,” Betty said, taking a bodysuit off the rack and holding it up. I felt the lace as I gave it a once over.

“It does, but I don’t have nearly big enough boobs to fill out the top.”

“Come on, just try it on. I think the orange will suit your skin.”

I took it, rolling my eyes, adding it to the growing pile draped over my arm. “Betty, don’t you think I have enough?”

“We’ve only gotten through half of the store!”

“Okay, let me try on this stuff, pare it down, and then we’ll get through the rest. Is that acceptable, Ms. Brant?” I added teasingly. 

“I suppose,” she sighed, pushing me towards a change room already. 

I swear, I was trying on lingerie for a lifetime. Two pieces, one pieces, ones with rhinestones, ones with a million straps, ones with fishnet, ones in each colour of the rainbow and then some. 

And I didn’t like how I looked in any of them. 

Up until this point in my life, the shape of my body hadn’t really been of consequence, because I’d never been trying to accentuate features or anything. If anything, I’d been trying to play things down. 

Looking in the mirror, covered in lace, I realized I didn’t have much to accentuate. I was the shape of a smartphone, or a cardboard box, or anything flat and rectangular and unspectacular. 

I redressed, and stepped out of the changeroom. 

“Okay, I give up. Let’s go home.”

“What? No! I may not agree with the circumstances regarding the dick you’re getting, but goddammit, you’re getting dick, and you’re gonna feel like a bombshell doing it.”

I snorted. “Please, I’m begging you, take that speech to the Bugle.”

“You’re not listening to me. Try the orange one on again.”

I sighed, going back into the changeroom and putting the orange one on, then let Betty in. 

“See? You look hot.”

I glared at her reflection in the mirror. “I look like a wannabe Instagram model, pre-boob job and butt implants.”

“Stop shitting on your body. Do you mind if I help you out a little here?”

I shrugged. “Do whatever you want.”

She adjusted the straps, making them tighter to lift up the top, and retying my knot in the middle of my back. 

I had to admit, I did start to see the appeal. Retying it in the back gave my waist a little more shape, and once she tightened the straps, I looked less like a prepubescent boy and more like a seventeen-year-old girl. 

“See? It’s growing on you,” Betty said, satisfied. 

I sighed. “Check the tag.”

She grinned, pulling the tag out of the back and checking it. “It’s on sale. Twenty bucks.”

I looked at myself in the mirror. It was pretty. And, hey, we’re our own biggest critics, right? “Miles” probably wouldn’t even notice all the things I was noticing about my own body. 

“Alright. Fine. I’ll buy it.”

“Good.” 

\---

Dad left for Italy on Friday, which meant I could finally invite Peter upstairs. 

I’d done some…prep. And by prep, I meant that I’d bought a box of condoms, taken a full hour-long shower, actually done my hair (clipped both sides back rather than just one), and put on the orange bodysuit. 

Okay, yeah, I looked good. 

_ Me: hey, you still coming upstairs? _

_ Peter: yeah _

_ Peter: what time? _

I quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a big flannel, buttoning it up. 

_ Me: now works  _

_ Peter: be right there _

I waited by the door, and about a minute later, I heard him knock. 

I let him into the apartment, and he practically jumped on me, grabbing me and kissing me before the door had even clicked shut. It knocked the breath out of me. 

“Mm, Peter.” I pulled away a little. “Can we at least make it to my bedroom?”

He laughed sheepishly, his cheeks looking a little rosy. “Sorry. It’s been a week and a half, I’m impatient.”

“Peter, up until a couple months ago, you’d never had any action in your life, and now you go ten days without and lose your mind.”

He shrugged. “Men are the weaker species, I know. Can we go to your bedroom now?”

I laughed. “Sure.”

He beamed, pulling me into my room, closing the door behind us. He turned back to me to kiss me, and saw the box on my desk. 

“MJ?”

“Oh, um, those are-”

“I know what they are, I’m just wondering…why?”

I tilted my head at him. “Why do you think?”

“Well, I mean, I know this whole situation was so we could get some practice in and have fun or whatever, and as much as I’d love to, I didn’t think it was on the agenda.” He paused, dropping his gaze to the floor. “And, um, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt, and even if it does, I’d rather go through that with you than some random party hookup.”

“Doesn’t it hurt for most girls?” he asked. 

I pressed my lips together. “Yeah, but…” 

_ Come on, Jones, think. You can’t tell him the reason it won’t hurt is because this isn’t technically your first time.  _

That wasn’t true. This was my first time having actual sex, not…the other thing. This was consensual.

“We don’t have to,” I breathed, suddenly very self-conscious. This whole thing was stupid, anyways. The prep and the lingerie and the whole damn-

“I-I want to, I’m just…nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna hurt you, and I don’t wanna not be good enough-”

“Jesus, dude, do you know the lengths I went to just to be ‘good enough’ for this?”

“W-what?”

“I spent hours shopping with Betty on Wednesday, and then I had to have some very awkward small talk with the CVS cashier as I bought condoms, and I think I spent two hours getting ready-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. You spent hours shopping for condoms with Betty?”

I felt my eyes go wide. “Oh, no, that’s not- god, this was supposed to be a surprise-”

“What was?”

I sighed, looking down as I unbuttoned my flannel. “It was stupid, and this is embarrassing, and can we please just watch some TV after this and forget about it because I think I wanna just-”

Peter reached out, stilling my hands. I’d unbuttoned half of my flannel, and he was staring at my chest. “Did you buy that for-for me?”

I dropped my head into my hands, groaning. “Yeah.” I wanted to cry. This was the worst.

“Why are you so embarrassed? You look amazing, MJ.”

“No, I don’t,” I whined, looking down at myself. “I look like I’m trying way too hard, which I am, for the record, and I don’t even really know why, because it’s not like you haven’t seen me in my literally sloppiest, grossest sweats, but I can’t even pull this stupid thing off and I just look like-”

“Slow down. You’re rambling so much you sound like…me.”

I snorted, despite myself. 

“I’m…honestly _flattered_. You dressed up for your fuckbuddy.”

My chest ached a little. Because he wasn’t just a fuckbuddy. He was Peter. “Yeah, but-”

“No buts. You look absolutely breathtaking.”

I stared at him, chewing on the inside of my lip. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly. 

“Yeah,” I breathed.

He pulled me close by my flannel, kissing me softly. I slid my arms around his midsection, clinging close. 

Both of us were nervous, holding back a little. I wanted to speed it up, because (not that I would ever tell Peter) it’d been a week and a half, and I’d spent the whole time studying and doing homework, and I was a little anxious to get this show on the road. But, at the same time, I was scared. Maybe it would hurt. I kept assuming it wouldn’t because I wouldn’t be resisting, but maybe it would. Or, worse, I’d have a panic attack and we’d have to stop and _that_ would be my first time. 

_ The whole point of this is practice. If it doesn’t go perfectly smoothly this time, it’ll go smoothly the next time, or the time after that. _

I guided his hands to the buttons of the flannel, and he started unbuttoning. Once he’d unbuttoned it, he slid his hands over my shoulders, pushing it away. His hands almost burned against my skin. I moved my hands so he could pull it off of my arms, and it landed…somewhere on my floor. 

Lifting the hem of his shirt, I kissed his jawline. His breathing was heavier than usual, but that didn’t surprise me. It stuttered a little as I pulled his t-shirt up over head. Before he could get back to undressing me, I unbuttoned his jeans, moving my head as he started to kiss my neck. 

“MJ,” he breathed, “you’re absolutely sure about this?”

I unzipped his pants. “Mhm.”

He pulled away to pull off his pants, so I took off mine. Once he’d pulled off his pants, he grabbed me, lifting me off of the ground. 

“Peter!” 

I wrapped my legs around his waist, sliding my arms around his neck. He pushed me up against the wall, kissing down my neck as he slipped a hand between us, pressing between my legs. 

“I meant it when I said you look amazing,” he told me between kisses. “You’re stunning in that.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, dropping my head forward. 

As he moved the fabric of the body suit aside, he whispered into my ear, “I’m so lucky.”

His finger started to circle my clit, and I moaned. “You’re lucky?”

“Like you would not believe.”

He started to push his fingers into me. I pressed my forehead into his, biting my lip. 

“Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

“Uh-huh,” I said, strained. “You can-you can keep going.”

He pushed in knuckle-deep, curling his fingers. “Feels good?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “So good.”

He rubbed his thumb against my clit and pressed his fingers into my g-spot. I was trying to press into him, but my motion was limited, so instead I was dragging my short nails over his back. He moved to kiss my neck again, this time suckling a little, definitely leaving a hickey. 

Weird. We’d been doing this for a while, and this was the first hickey either one of us was getting. 

He kept going, pressing kisses under my ear and fingering me, until I was moaning his name more than I was breathing. 

“I’m close,” I gasped as he ground his thumb against me. “So close. We should- can you- lemme down.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna come yet.”

He hesitated. “I wanna make you come now in case I can’t later.”

Caving, I said, “Mkay.”

He sped up his motions, and my back arched against the wall as I started to orgasm. 

“Peter,” I whined. “ _Peter_.”

“Let go, Em.”

I let out a half-shout, half-moan, my whole body seizing, electric shocks flooding through me. 

It died down pretty quickly, and I relaxed against the wall. 

“You still wanna…keep going?” Peter asked. 

I nodded, breathing heavily, so he started to pull me away from the wall, sliding his hand behind my back and holding me against his body. He laid me down on the bed, crawling on top of me and kissing me. 

Gently, I pushed him off. “Give me a second, I need to catch my breath.”

He nodded, moving to kiss my neck gently. 

When I caught my breath, I reached over to the box of condoms, pulling out a square foil packet and handing it to Peter. He hesitated, sitting back on his heels. 

“Okay, don’t laugh at me,” he began, “but I don’t exactly know how to…use this.”

I frowned. “Really? We were taught in Sex Ed.”

He shook his head. “The guys weren’t.”

I took the foil packet out of his hand, sighing. “We had to put them on bananas, and it was a very awkward experience because we didn’t have a female teacher.” I tore the packet open. “Dude, you gotta take off the boxers.”

He laughed lightly as he took them off. “You have to take off your, um, outfit, too.”

I caught his eyes, holding eye contact for a moment. “What if I want you to take it off of me?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I took the condom out of the packet and put it on him, slowly. 

“MJ, you’re still sure about this?” he whispered, looking concerned. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, don’t you want your first time to be with…someone special?”

My nose stung a little bit. Of course I did. That’s why I was here, with him. But I couldn’t say that, so instead, I said, “I’m not sentimental.” He still didn’t look convinced, so I shifted a little closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, I- god, of course I want to, Em, I’m just-I don’t-I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I, genius. That’s why we’re doing this, aren’t we?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess.”

I shifted even closer, guiding his hands to my back so he could untie the ribbon holding this thing together. He pulled at it, the bow coming undone, and the lingerie loosening. 

“You really do look stunning in this,” he mumbled, pushing the straps off of my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I breathed. 

I laid back on the bed, and he pulled the bodysuit off of me, laying on top of me after he’d tossed it onto the floor. 

“You’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” he asked. 

I nodded.

“And if you want me to stop?”

I nodded again. He pressed a kiss to my lips, then kissed down my neck and my chest, suckling on the top of one breast before kissing my lips again. 

“Are you stalling?” I asked, lips brushing over his. 

He dropped his head to my shoulder. “A little.”

I laughed. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

He rubbed against me a little, rubber grinding into my clit, and I bit my lip.

“Peter,” I breathed. 

“Is it okay if I go slow?” he asked. I could feel his breath on my bare shoulder. 

“Yeah. Please.”

He used his hand to guide himself, and slowly pushed in, just a little bit. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, Peter, it feels good. You can keep going.”

He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine.

“Please?” I asked, my voice getting quieter. 

He pushed in a little further, and I could feel myself stretching around him. It felt way better than I was expecting. I gasped a little, closing my eyes. 

“You want me to keep going?”

“Please,” I moaned, resisting the urge to buck my hips. 

He kept pushing in, pressing soft kisses to my jawline and cheek and under my ear. His hand was bunching the sheets next to my shoulder, a telltale sign that he was enjoying this, too. 

And, god, it felt good. Way better than I was expecting. 

“Em,” he breathed, hot air hitting under my jaw. His hips had stilled, and he was just breathing. 

I reached up, tangling my fingers in his hair, and guiding his head so his face was hovering above mine. 

“Keep going,” I told him softly. “I’ll let you know what feels good.”

He nodded, then slowly pulled out halfway, pushing back in slowly. I held my breath a little, then pulled him down to kiss me. He did the same, slow thrust as we kissed, and I moaned quietly against his mouth. 

He kept doing that, slow and steady, and it felt good, but it wasn’t really getting me anywhere. 

“Peter?” I asked. “Can you, uh, angle up a little? And maybe speed up just a bit?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

He slowly pulled out and adjusted a little, then thrusted in sharply, driving straight into my g-spot. I let out a yelp, and then bit my lip. 

“That didn’t- did I-”

“Didn’t hurt,” I panted. “Keep doing that. Exactly that.”

He did it again, a little harder, and I gasped, moaning a little. 

“Keep- Peter, please-”

He kissed me as he did it again, and I moaned into his mouth, pulling at his hair. 

It turned into a good rhythm of thrusts and moans and the occasional “harder” or “faster” that slipped past my lips. I slipped a hand between us, rubbing my clit as I got closer. 

Both of us were gasping for air, covered in sweat. 

“Faster,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”

He quickened his pace, my whole bed shaking as he thrusted. I moaned, loudly, my back starting to arch off the bed. 

“Peter,” I moaned, “please.”

He gently moved my hand, his hand taking its place, pressing his fingers hard against my clit. Warm shocks were zipping up my spine, each one making my back arch. 

I moved my hands from his hair to his back, scared I’d pull out locks of hair if I held on much longer. I dug my nails into his skin, moaning his name. 

His thrusts stuttered, and he groaned, giving a few more impossibly hard and fast thrusts. 

I came hard, shouting his name, moaning and gasping and panting. He kept moving, slowing down a little as I started to settle, my back relaxing. He pulled away when I’d relaxed completely, eyes closed and lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Was that good?” Peter asked softly. 

I laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, that was pretty good.”

He kissed my cheek and then laid down next to me, breathing as hard as I was. “Yeah. I agree.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever wanna do that again,” I mumbled without thinking. 

Peter snapped his head towards me. “What?”

I replayed my words in my head, and realized why he was shocked. 

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant,” I huffed, starting to sit up. “Um, I’m gonna-”

He put a hand on my shoulder, stilling me. “You said you’d never had sex.”

“I hadn’t.”

“So then…it wasn’t…sex?”

I laid back down, staring at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I groaned.

He propped himself up on his elbow. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but you can. I won’t tell anybody.”

I looked at him, and then gave in, sighing. “I, um, was…I can’t even say it out loud, wow. It just…I was too young to consent, and then when I was old enough to consent and I didn’t, it was worse, so now I just kind of…let it happen.”

He frowned. “It’s still happening?” he asked softly. 

I shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s so infrequent at this point that it might as well not be happening.”

“Right,” he said, more to himself than to me, “you said your uncle doesn’t visit often anymore.”

I looked at him. “I didn’t say anything about my uncle.”

He hesitated, mouth opening but nothing coming out. I propped myself up, mirroring his position. 

“How did you…put that together?”

He looked down. “You, um, had a nightmare a while ago. You said his name in your sleep. Uncle Antonio.”

I swallowed. “Oh.”

“MJ-”

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” I got up and left before he could say anything else.

I splashed my face with cold water, trying to just wash it out of my brain. And then I got ready for bed, brushing my face, doing my skincare routine, all of it, and then went back to my room to pull on some pjs. Peter was already up and wearing his boxers again. 

“Do you want me to go downstairs for the night?” he asked. 

“No, stay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softer. 

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

He stared at me for a second, clearly disbelieving, but then said, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”

I got into bed, laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling. 

Well, at least now he knew some of it, and I didn’t have to dance around it quite so much. 

He came back in a couple minutes later, laying down next to me. 

“You’re gonna make fun of me for this, but…I kinda can’t believe we actually had sex.”

I snorted. “You’re like a giddy fourteen-year-old.”

“Listen, I’m kind of a late bloomer, leave me alone.”

“Yeah, you and the whole decathlon team.”

“Except for Ned and Betty.”

I laughed, turning and shifting towards him. “Arguments could be made against them. We _have_ gone further.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. It made my heart skip a beat. “Yeah, we just can’t tell them that we have and lord it over them.”

“You act like you would lord it over them. Between the two of us, that’d be me.”

He chuckled. “It would.”

I hesitated. “You don’t think of me any differently now, do you?”

“What, because we had sex?”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh. I mean, it doesn’t change how I think of you, it just…I wish I could change it for you.”

“It’s okay, Peter. It’s not your fault.”

It fell quiet, and I thought he’d fallen asleep, but then he asked, “Have you told anybody else?”

“No,” I whispered. 

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

\---

I woke up to a clap of thunder and the sound of rain on the fire escape. 

Despite my dislike for loud noises, I generally found thunderstorms calming. There was something nice about it being cold and stormy outside, but being inside, huddled up in blankets with hot cocoa. 

Peter, however, was shaking with fear. He’d turned away from me and curled up, arms wrapped around his knees. 

“Hey,” I whispered, “are you okay?” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he uncurled, turning to face me. 

“I don’t like storms,” he mumbled, looking a little ashamed, like he thought I’d judge him, but also looking like a kicked puppy. 

I pulled him towards me, and he buried his face in my shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around me. “Hey, it’s not gonna hurt you. You’re safe.”

His shoulders shook as he cried. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He relaxed into me, crying softly, still trembling. I played with his hair with one hand, rubbing my hand up and down his back with the other. 

After about twenty minutes, the storm seemed to quiet. The thunder let up, and the rain became a light drizzle. Peter calmed down, pulling away from me with a shaky breath. 

“You want some tea?” I asked.

“Yes, please.”

“Come on.”

I pulled him out of bed and towards the living room, sitting him down on the couch. 

“You okay?”

He gave me a weak smile. “I’m good.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shrugged, trying to brush it off.

“Thunder reminds me of gunshots.” He smiled again, this one a little more convincing. “I’m okay, though.”

“That’s good.”

  
I ruffled his hair, going into the kitchen to make him some tea. I brewed some green tea and added some honey, then made sure it was cool enough to drink before I brought it out to the living room.

  
“Thanks, Em.”

  
“No problem. Do you wanna watch some TV, just to wind down a little?”

  
“Sure.”

  
I turned on the TV, and relaxed. We ended up watching a Netflix show. By the end of the first episode, Peter had finished his tea, and leaned back on the couch.

  
“I’m cold,” he whined, pulling me into his arms. I chuckled as I relaxed against him, letting my head rest on his chest.

  
By the end of the second episode, I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

  
“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” Peter said when he realized how tired I was.

  
“No, I’m okay. We can watch another episode if you wanna.” Even I could hear how obnoxiously tired my voice sounded.

  
Peter sighed, shifting me off of him, standing up, and then scooping me up. I looped my arms around his neck.

  
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I mumbled.

  
“You did,” he told me. “My turn to take care of you.”

  
“Peter,” I whined.

  
“Shh. I’m okay now, Em.”

  
He carried me into my room and laid me down, getting into bed next to me.

  
It was so much warmer in my bed than on the couch.

  
Peter pulled me in, pressing his forehead to mine. I sighed, sleepily, closing my eyes.

  
“Thanks for carrying me,” I mumbled, wishing badly that I could kiss him goodnight. God, having him this close and knowing which lines I couldn’t cross was killing me.

  
“Thanks for calming me down.”

  
I hummed, shifting my body closer to him. “G’night.”

  
“Goodnight.”


	9. wilder than i've ever been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay since the last chapter was all from MJ's perspective, this one's all from Peter's. it gets interesting ;)

_Peter_

“-we each have individual rooms this time, so no need to partner up like last year,” MJ explained, going through her checklist. She was kneeling on a seat at the front of the bus, reading off a list of things we should know before we got to the hotel. “You can thank Stark Industries for that one.”

Flash shot me a look. I did my best to ignore it.

“So we’ll do a couple practice rounds when we get to the hotel for a little last minute prep, and then I’m ordering no studying after dinner. Just rest. Your brain will work better tomorrow if it’s not overworked tonight. Deal?”

“Deal,” we all responded.

“Alright, MJ, you can take a seat. Let’s talk about the hotel rules. I expect you all to respect the employees, since we’re representing Midtown-”

I tuned out, watching MJ sit down next to Betty. We’d been working overtime on decathlon stuff all week, in preparation for this competition, to the point where MJ and I hadn’t gotten a moment alone since we’d had sex.

So, now, if I closed my eyes for more than a few seconds, I’d see MJ in orange lace, and it was killing me.

“-but you guys are good kids, so I don’t think we’ll have any problems.”

When we got to the hotel, we got our room keys from the front desk and headed up to our rooms, dumping our stuff for the next couple nights. Then we headed to MJ’s room, and all sat around while she quizzed us on various topics. Ned still had his backpack with him, and I didn’t understand why until he started pulling out snacks. He handed me a small bag of Doritos while he munched on some Cheetos.

After about an hour of being quizzed, we went downstairs. There was a restaurant in the lobby, so we all sat around and ate dinner.

It was nice. We didn’t get a chance to go out as a group often. Even if Flash was making fun of me, and Ned and Betty were gazing lovingly at each other, it was fine. Because MJ was sitting next to me, smiling and laughing, and occasionally bumping my knee with hers.

After dinner, when we were all back upstairs, I laid on my bed, holding my phone, wondering how to text MJ to ask her to come to my room.

Just as I started typing out a message, someone knocked on my door. I put down my phone and got up, expecting Ned to be standing outside with a LEGO set.

Instead, it was MJ. She’d changed out of her yellow Midtown jacket and jeans, and was now wearing a tank top and a pair of leggings.

“Hey.”

“Hi, so, I was wondering if you’d be interested in-”

Ned cut her off, bounding down the hallway. “Peter, I brought that puzzle we’ve been meaning to get to- what are you two talking about?”

“Oh, I was just asking Peter if he could quiz me. I did all of the quizzing earlier, so I haven’t gotten a chance to practice.”

Ned frowned. “Didn’t you tell us not to overwork ourselves?”

MJ hesitated, so I took over, taking her hand and pulling her into my room. “She doesn’t take her own advice. I’ll see you in the morning, Ned.”

“Goodnight.”

I closed the door, turning to MJ. “I was just about to text you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? What kind of text?”

I laughed, dropping my head. “You can guess.”

“I think,” she said slowly, stepping closer and looping her arms around my neck, “you should show me.”

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that, right?” I held her by her waist.

“Not tonight, I still need my physics nerd for tomorrow.”

I chuckled. “Way to make me feel loved.” I leaned in and kissed her before she could shoot anything back at me.

She let her body weight fall against me, like she was melting into me. If I ignored the fact that she’d only come to my room for sex, it made my chest feel warm in the way only she could warm my chest.

_As if I wasn’t going to do the same thing._

“Mm.” I pulled away a little. “Did you actually want me to quiz you?”

She giggled, her forehead falling onto my shoulder. “No, Peter, I don’t want you to quiz me.”

“I wanted to make sure!”

“How did I pick the most wholesome, innocent guy to be my fuckbuddy?”

Right. Because I wasn’t special. I was convenient.

That felt like a kick to the stomach.

“Luck?”

She laughed again, and it warmed my chest up a little. “Yeah, pure luck.” She sounded like she was telling the truth. Like she actually believed it. “Come on, shirt off.”

I grinned, letting go of her waist to pull off my shirt. “Happy?”

“Mhm.” She kissed me again, jumping into my arms as she did, wrapping her legs around my waist. I held her tight, walking us over to my bed. I sat her down at the edge of the bed, pulling away from her kiss to take off her shirt. “Oh, I forgot to bring protection,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Didn’t you wanna have sex?”

“Well, yeah, but we can just do other stuff. I wasn’t expecting _sex_.”

She smiled, relieved. “Again, the most wholesome guy.”

And that made my chest feel like it was gonna explode.

“Dude, stop staring at me like I grew another ear and pull your pants down.”

_Yeah, sounds about right._

I pulled my pants down, and MJ tugged my boxers down, pulling the waistband to make me step closer. She glanced up at me through her eyelashes as she flattened her tongue against me. I buried my hands in her hair, hoping desperately that if I focused on that texture I’d last a little longer this time.

It worked, I think. It took almost ten minutes action before I came, going weak in the knees when I did. MJ laughed a little as I sat down hard on the bed, sighing. I flopped backwards, giving her a dirty look.

“Enjoy yourself?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mhm.”

“Took a little longer this time,” she mentioned, amused.

“Yeah, that took some focus.”

She laughed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Shut up, you’re good at that, but I didn’t wanna embarrass myself by coming too soon.”

She kept laughing. “Peter, that’s sweet, but I don’t care. If you don’t last as long, my jaw doesn’t get as sore, anyways.”

I smacked her arm lightly, which only amused her further. She fell across my stomach, still giggling. “You’re mean!” I exclaimed.

“I just told you that you don’t have to worry about trying to last longer for my sake and I’m the mean one?”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing at me.”

“You’re the one who’s not reciprocating. If anything, you’re being selfish tonight.”

“Em, give me a minute!”

She giggled again, turning her head to face me. “I know, I know. I just like making fun of you.”

“I can tell.”

She got off of me, gently pulled my jeans off of my legs and pulling my boxers back up to my hips. “There, have I redeemed myself?”

I smiled at her. “Yeah, I guess I can forgive you.”

She crawled on top of me, knees on either side of my hips, and kissed me, grabbing my face. I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over, and her hands slipped from my cheeks into my hair.

At some point, I was gonna get up the nerve to ask her for a scalp massage. Eventually.

I kissed down her neck and over her collarbone, slipping one hand into her leggings. She started to sigh a little, a sign that I was doing something right. Her hips were moving in time with my fingers, and I could feel her underwear getting wetter. Her hands left my hair to grip the blanket.

“Can you go down on me?” she asked, her voice airy.

“Yeah, of course.”

I pressed a kiss to her lips, and she smiled at me. “Thanks.”

I pulled her leggings and panties off, tossing them on the floor, then shifted her a little so she wasn’t so close to the edge of the bed, and then kissed just below her belly button.

“You’re being a tease,” she huffed, burying her hands in my hair again, pushing my head. I pushed back.

“Yeah, well, you were mean.”

I kissed a little lower, watching her to gauge her reaction.

She just rolled her eyes and let her head fall back.

I moved on to kissing her inner thighs, suckling a little to leave hickeys, like the faint ones that lingered from last week. She was wiggling her hips a little, soft sighs and moans filling the air. I kissed closer, and she pulled at my hair.

“You’re the worst.”

I sucked harder, and she moaned. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Fuck you, Parker.”

I pushed two fingers into her, curling my fingers up. She moaned sharply, back arching for a second.

It was really satisfying to see her react like that.

I didn’t start slow like I normally did. I licked and swirled and sucked without a break until her thighs were squeezing around my face and she was screaming my name.

Once her legs and back had relaxed, I pulled away, gently.

“Okay,” she panted, “I take back what I said. Unfuck you. That was so good.”

I laughed. “Did you seriously just say ‘unfuck you’?”

“Hey, if you’re not careful, I’ll refuck you.” She paused, staring at me. “Okay, I just heard that.” She cracked up. “Not my finest moment.”

“In your defense, I don’t think you have full brain function,” I said, picking her panties and my shirt up off the floor and handing it to her.

“Look at you, getting all confident in your abilities.”

I smiled a little at her proud tone. “Can we go back to the refucking offer? Because there’s a drug store down the street and-”

She hit me with the shirt, despite grinning. “After we win, maybe.” She sat up, pulling on the clothes. “I could use a nap.”

“It’s just past nine, I think it’s reasonable to go to sleep.”

With a sigh, she got up, pulling on her leggings. “I should go back to my room to brush my teeth and stuff.” Her legs were a little shaky.

“Are you…gonna come back?”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Do you want me to?”

I shrugged. “These…aren’t very, um, warm…blankets.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a few.”

And she was. By the time she came back, I’d brushed my teeth, too, and climbed into bed, texting Mr. Stark to let him know when we were competing the next day. She’d propped my door open with my shoe when she left, so I didn’t have to get up to open the door for her.

Pulling off her leggings and crawling into bed, she said, “We’re lucky I didn’t run into anybody in the hallway. I’m still wearing your shirt. That would’ve been a dead giveaway.”

“Why didn’t you change, then?”

“I forgot to put my tank top back on until I was halfway to my room, and then I realized it’d be worse if I was walking to your room in a different shirt and carrying this shirt, and so I didn’t change in my room. Anyways, it’s fine, nobody saw me. Can you spoon me?”

I blinked. “Yeah, sure.”

She turned over, scooting backwards into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight. I wanted so badly to kiss her shoulder or her neck goodnight.

“Oh, um, I set an early alarm so I can sneak back to my room before the competition,” she mumbled. “Sorry if it wakes you up, too.”

“It’s okay.”

I buried my face in her hair, and breathed in. “Goodnight.”

She shifted closer to me, turning her face into the pillow a little. “Goodnight.”

\---

“Peter.”

I blinked my eyes open, but MJ was still laying in my arms, breathing slowly and deeply, her heart rate slow.

“Peter,” she breathed, and I realized she was talking in her sleep again.

I tightened my arm around her waist, and she sighed softly.

I didn’t go back to sleep. I was enjoying cuddling her like this, one arm around her waist, one under her neck. Her hand was next to mine, her fingers just barely brushing over my skin. Her back was pressed against me, like she needed to be as close to me as possible.

I pressed a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “I love you.”

She didn’t react.

“So much,” I breathed. “So much.”

\---

Her alarm went off an hour or two later, and she groaned, reaching for her phone. I loosened my arm around her waist, so she could reach her phone and turn off the alarm.

“Why did I think that was a good idea?” she groaned, turning towards me and burying her face in my shoulder. I hugged her tight against my body.

“So we don’t get caught?”

She mumbled something, but it was muffled. I could, however, feel her lips moving against my skin, and I struggled not to visibly shiver.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your room?” I offered.

She leaned back, and looked at me. “I wanna stay here. You’re…warm.”

I fought back a smile. “You should go back, Em. You know exactly how the team will react if they find out about us hooking up.”

She closed her eyes, groaning again, louder and more frustrated this time. “I hate you when you’re right.” She rolled out of my arms and got up, pulling her leggings on. “Ow, fuck, I forgot you left hickies.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just…tired and stupid. I’m gonna go sleep for another hour, I’ll see you when we’re getting ready for the competition.”

“See you.”

She left, closing my door quietly behind her. I’d forgotten to ask her for my shirt back, but maybe that was intentional. It looked better on her, anyways.

\---

“Okay, hi, I’m here,” Ned said, running up to us just a couple minutes late, a fresh bruise peeking out of his shirt.

“Nice accessory,” MJ commented, giving the hickey a pointed look. “Anyways, you guys all rested up and ready to go?”

We all nodded.

“Cool. Let’s head downstairs.”

\---

The competition was pretty much a breeze. The questions were way easier than what MJ had prepared us for, and the other teams seemed to be off their game. We won, easily.

It did, however, take a full day of competing, then waiting for another round against a different team, then competing. Rinse and repeat, over and over, until all you wanna do is curl up in a pile of blankets and never think about the periodic table again.

“You guys wanna meet at the hot tub downstairs in, say, forty-five minutes?” Cindy asked.

MJ nodded. “We could use a little team celebrating. Builds connections, trust…”

“Let’s do it,” Flash agreed.

So we went up to our rooms, changed, and went downstairs.

When I got there, Ned and MJ were already in the hot tub, chatting. MJ had her hair tied up in a loose bun, and was wearing an orange bikini.

Orange really was her colour.

I put my towel on a chair and lowered myself into the hot tub.

“Wow, that’s toasty.”

MJ laughed. “Yeah, it’s called a hot tub for a reason, Parker.” She raised her eyebrows at me from across the hot tub, steam rising between us.

Before I could respond, Betty entered, Cindy following just behind her. They slid into the hot tub, too, and the conversation was rerouted to memorable moments from the day.

When Flash entered, though, the conversation was interrupted. “Do you guys ever wonder what it’d be like to have sex in a hot tub?”

I coughed, Cindy snorted, and MJ just tilted her head. “Yeah, all the time.”

I swallowed. That was…a bad image to put in my head. She’d probably done that on purpose, knowing her.

“Well, anytime you want me to help you fulfill a fantasy-”

“Gross, Flash,” Betty scolded, splashing him. “Lay off. She’s your captain.”

“Kinky,” Cindy chimed in.

“What?” Ned asked.

“Who doesn’t wanna be dominated by an authority figure occasionally?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “I think you read too much Wattpad in middle school, Cindy.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you don’t have any sexual fantasies.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then spill.”

MJ pressed her lips together, glaring daggers at Cindy. “Uh, well, hot tub sex, for one thing.”

“What about it?” Flash asked teasingly, leaning towards her a little.

MJ sighed. “I don’t know. Hot water, jets, being relaxed. Those all sound great.”

“You are being very careful to ignore all the juicy parts of your fantasies,” Betty pointed out.

“Jesus, you guys want way too much information. Betty, name one of your fantasies.”

She blushed a little, shooting a glance at Ned. “Uh, kind of what Cindy said. Like, being pinned down, stuff like that.”

“You’re ignoring the juicy parts,” MJ mocked.

Betty rolled her eyes. “Ned, your turn.”

He swallowed. “Um, I don’t know, doing it in, like, a mall bathroom or something?”

Cindy raised her eyebrows. “Really? Public sex? That’s pretty kinky.”

Ned blushed. “Shut up, Moon. It’s your turn, anyways.”

“Easy. Car sex.”

“Wouldn’t that be cramped?” Betty asked.

MJ shrugged. “That’s probably half the fun.”

“Would you ever do it?” Flash asked her.

“Yeah, easily.”

“Wow. You’re a little more adventurous than I give you credit for, Jones.”

MJ looked at me as she answered him. “Yeah, I’m just full of surprises.”

Okay, so far on the list of her fantasies, I had hot tub sex and car sex. I’d remember that.

“What about you, Thompson?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from me to look at Flash.

“I think the hot tub thing is my top fantasy,” he mused.

“Fair enough. I think I’d kill for hot tub sex.”

She was looked at me again, smirking a little. God, I was gonna get a boner in this stupid hot tub, and then I’d _really_ never get past the “Penis Parker” comments.

“Peter?” MJ asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

I chewed on my lip, glaring at her. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, everybody has fantasies,” Flash pushed.

I looked down at the water. “I don’t know, I kinda just…think about actually being loved.” Specifically by MJ, but nobody needed to know that.

The circle went silent. When I looked up, MJ was staring at me, her expression unreadable.

“So which superhero would you wanna fuck?” Cindy asked, cutting through the tension. I relaxed a little, glad the attention was off of me.

“Captain America,” Betty answered instantly.

MJ frowned. “That’s weird. We watch videos of him lecturing us on eating balanced diet. He’s like a grandpa.”

“But have you seen him in that suit?”

“Hey!” Ned exclaimed. “I’m right here!”

There was a bit of chuckling.

“I vote Black Widow,” Flash said. “That woman is smoking hot.”

“You guys are missing the obvious one,” Cindy groaned. “Spider-Man.”

I choked. “What?”

“He’s got super-strength, which has to come in handy, plus he can stick to walls and stuff, which would be handy when it comes to, like, having sex against a wall or shower sex and stuff like that. Oh, and the webs. Who doesn’t wanna be webbed down?”

MJ nodded. “Yeah, that checks out. That’s pretty hot.”

_Don’t reveal your secret identity just to impress MJ, Peter, you’re better than that._

“Plus, that suit is skin tight. I bet he could feel everything through it.”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “Well, now we know what you’re thinking about when you zone out in class.”

Cindy laughed. “Usually daydreaming about McDonald’s, but that’s fair, too.”

The conversation died down, and I watched as MJ slowly relaxed. She closed her eyes, her lips still parted, her arms spread out on the back of the hot tub.

I really should not have been thinking about taking her back to the compound just to make use of the hot tub.

“I’m, uh, gonna go upstairs,” I said quietly, getting out of the hot tub. “I’m pretty tired.”

There was a chorus of “aw, come on”s and “it’s not that late”s and “Peter, stay”s.

“Guys, let him go to bed. We’ve all had a long day.” I looked over, and MJ was smiling at me, eyes half-lidded. “You did really well today, Peter. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.” I grabbed my towel, dried off, and left.

\---

MJ came up to my room later. I’d just gotten out of the shower, so I was pyjama-clad and my hair was still wet. At least she hadn’t come by when I was sighing her name in the shower.

When I opened the door, she looked kind of nervous. She’d let her hair down from the bun, and pulled a hoodie on over her bikini, and was now fiddling with the zipper. Nervous as she was, she looked absolutely beautiful.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hi. Do you wanna come in?”

“I was gonna go take a shower, actually. I just…wanted to apologize for putting you on the spot earlier.”

“It’s fine-”

“No, you looked really uncomfortable. Anyways, um, I’m sorry. I’ll see you in the morning, Peter.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She gave me a soft smile before turning and walking away.

I closed the door, and then crawled into bed, burying my face in a pillow.

_I should just jump off of a bridge, that seems like a better idea than saying anything ever again._


	10. been worried bout you lately

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have some short smut then angst bc thats the mood today ig

_MJ_

“Yeah, we got first.”

“Good,” Dad answered, voice slightly distorted by the phone. “At least you’re doing something right. Make sure you put that on your applications.”

“Okay. Are we doing anything for Christmas this year?” I asked.

“I’m not going to be in town.”

Great. Another Christmas all alone.

“Okay, I won’t decorate, then.”

Dad sighed. “It’s a holiday for children, Michelle. You’re almost eighteen.”

I felt myself shrink a little. “Got it. No Christmas.”

“Don’t ask about it again.”

 _Click_.

I let out a breath.

_Me: hey how’d you do on your finals_

_Peter: they’re marking them in alphabetical order this year, so my marks haven’t shown up yet_

_Peter: it’s making me antsy_

_Me: wanna come upstairs and relieve some stress?_

_Peter: be there in five_

I laughed as I put my phone down.

 _Dork_.

He knocked on my door a few minutes later. “Okay, I know that us not fooling around during finals probably gave us more time to study, but-”

“But you’re weak and can’t go two weeks without sex now that you’re used to it?” I teased.

He sighed, stepping in through my door. “Yeah, kinda.”

I laughed. “At least you’re honest. Guess we’ll just have to catch up over the break, then.”

Peter grinned, hands falling to my hips and pulling me close.

If I let myself forget for a second that he only did that because he knew it was gonna end in sex, and let myself believe he just wanted to kiss me, I was almost happy for a second.

Almost.

I’d missed this way more than I was ready to admit. Just…being close to him. Being able to kiss him, press my whole body into his.

I pulled away to pull him into my bedroom, and once the door was closed behind us, pulled off my shirt, tossing it aside and kissing Peter again. He hummed against my lips, hands on my bare waist.

As much as I loved just kissing him, I wanted this to move along just a little bit faster. I tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he broke the kiss to pull it off. When he pulled me back, his lips landed under my jaw, his fingers untying the drawstrings of my pants and pushing them off of my hips.

Yeah, he took that hint.

“Peter,” I sighed. “Careful about- don’t leave a hickey.”

He pulled away. “Do you not like that?”

“No, Betty saw the ones on my thighs after the competition and…it was hard to explain away.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. No hickeys.” He started to lean into kiss me again, and then hesitated. “How did you explain that?”

“Peter,” I groaned, shoving him back playfully. “Is that really what you’re focused on? You have a half-naked girl who’s _trying_ to fuck you and you’re asking her about-”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I get it, I get it. Sorry.”

I stepped closer and started to push his pants down, laughing a little. “You don’t have to be sorry. Just maybe stay on track for a bit.”

He laughed, sounding embarrassed. “I am focused, I’m just multitasking.” He kicked off his pants, and then reached behind my back, fiddling with my bra. He managed to unhook it before I had to help him, and pulled it off of me.

Nothing quite like taking off your bra to realize exactly how chilly it is in your apartment.

“On the bed,” I breathed, grabbing a condom out of the nightstand.

He sat down against the headboard, pulling off his boxers and tossing them across the room.

“When am I gonna start bringing a change of clothes over?” he mused as I climbed onto him, straddling his hips.

“Once again, Peter. Need you to focus.”

He looked at me, and we were really still for a moment. “I’m always focused on you.”

I bit my lip. I knew it wasn’t true, but, god, he knew how to push all the right buttons.

I opened the condom wrapper and put the condom on him as he pushed my panties down. I had to adjust in order to get them off, and then Peter was slipping his hand between my legs, rubbing at my clit. Moaning, I wrapped my arms around Peter’s neck, pressing my forehead to his.

“You’re really wet, considering I’ve barely touched you,” Peter mumbled.

“Two weeks, Peter. Two weeks.”

He chuckled, holding my hips still with his free hand while he pushed two fingers into me. I whimpered a little, trying to grind my hips down on his hand but he was holding me too tightly.

“Please,” I whispered.

He curled his fingers, pressing hard against my g-spot. I yelped, sudden pleasure sending shocks up my spine. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, moaning as he pumped his fingers.

After a couple minutes, I gently pushed his wrist away, taking a breath and aligning myself with him.

“Em,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder. I lowered myself, slowly, and kept going until his whole length was inside me. He put his hands on my hips, fingers digging in. “Em.”

“Give me- gimme a sec,” I mumbled. It was kind of a tight fit, considering there hadn’t been a ton of foreplay, and it’d been a hot minute. I took a few breaths, and slowly lifted my hips. Peter helped, hands pulling me up, too.

I sped up, slowly, trying to kiss him as we went but needing to breathe too much. Our foreheads were rested against each other as we panted, moaned, gasped. I was bouncing up and down, my thighs burning, Peter’s hands on my hips and his small thrusts barely helping.

But, good god, it felt so good.

“Peter,” I moaned. “I can’t keep this up.”

“Here,” he mumbled, “I’ve got you.”

One hand on my back, holding me close to his body, he managed to flip us over.

“Better?”

“Mhm.”

He started to thrust, building a good rhythm. I dug my nails into his back, moaning.

He shifted, sliding his forearm under my neck to prop himself up, and then moved his other hand between us, fingers circling my clit.

“Peter,” I breathed, dragging my nails over his back muscles. “ _Peter_.”

He responded by thrusting harder, the entire bed shifting with us. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, forcing him to go deeper.

“MJ,” he huffed, “you’re killing me.”

“That’s the goal,” I shot back, nestling my face into his neck. He thrusted even harder, getting a long, drawn-out whine from me. “Fuck, Peter.”

He sped up, shifting his angle to hit my g-spot better. I dragged my nails over his skin again, whining into his neck.

I was arching my back, pressing my chest and stomach into him, moaning louder and louder.

“Close,” I whimpered, “so close.”

It didn’t take much longer after that, maybe thirty seconds, before I was crying out Peter’s name and digging my nails into his back as hard as I could, my whole body burning up. Peter waited until my orgasm died down to pull out, finishing into the condom with a few final strokes.

He flopped down next to be with a sigh.

“That was…worth the wait,” he panted.

“Agreed.”

My phone buzzed on my desk. I frowned at Peter before getting up, pulling on my panties and shirt, and picking up my phone.

_Dad: Trip ended early. On my way from the airport._

_Me: how was the flight?_

He read my text and didn’t respond. Thanks, Dad.

“My dad’s on his way home,” I grumbled.

“Oh, do you want me to leave?”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “He hasn’t come into my bedroom in years. As long as you’re quiet it’s fine. I’ll just wait in the living room.”

“Are you sure?”

I looked at him, forcing a small smile. “I’d rather you stay.”

He seemed a little concerned, but didn’t say anything. I pulled on my sweats, grabbed my math workbook (even though I’d finished all the questions in preparation for finals), and went to sit in the living room.

When my dad walked in the front door, half an hour later, I didn’t get a “hi, how are you, honey?” or an “I missed you”, I got, “What did you get on your finals?”

“All above 95,” I said, hoping that’d be enough.

“Specific marks, MJ.”

“96 in math, 98 in history, 100 in biology, 95 in chem, 97 in physics.”

He glared at me. “And how much are they worth?”

“Thirty percent of the course mark.”

“Stand up and face me, Michelle.”

I put the workbook down and did as he said. He studied my face for a moment, then lifted his hand. “How many questions did you get wrong, total?”

“Five.”

“How many mistakes are you allowed in life?”

“Zero,” I recited.

He slapped me with his lifted hand. “Your uncle will visiting next week.”

And then he went into his room, slamming the door behind him.

My cheek stung, my left eye watering from the pain. I stood there for a minute, trying to collect myself. I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t going to cry.

After a few moments, I retreated into my room. Peter was laying in bed, pretending to be asleep, but his hands were balling up the sheets in fists.

I took off my pants and got into bed next to him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

He turned and looked at me, concerned. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, fighting tears again. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I promised quietly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Hey, come here.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I’ve got you.”

_I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry._

I wrapped my arms around him, too, feeling raised lines from where I scratched his back.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed.

“It’s okay. Go to sleep, Em.”

I couldn’t, though. I was trying too hard to hold myself together. If I cried to Peter, he’d know it was worse than I let on, and then he might try to help me and things could get so much worse.

Focusing on his breathing, on his hands on my back, I tried to push away the thoughts of my uncle that were creeping into my head. He hadn’t visited in three or four months. I’d gotten used to feeling okay. I didn’t wanna go back to that gross, dirt-under-the-skin feeling I got when he was around.

“Em,” Peter whispered. “You’re practically hyperventilating.”

I sat up, turning away from him. “I think I just need some air.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, no, that’s a…that’s a bad idea.”

I got up, opening the window and climbing out into the fire escape.

I hated it up here. It was cold, and I wasn’t a fan of heights. Not to mention all the memories I had of my dad pushing me back into the railing and telling me I was no use to him if I couldn’t be perfect. But it was the only way I could get away from Peter, just for a second, and breathe.

And then I started crying, tears streaming down my face, breath shaking.

Fuck.

It was just a slap, too. It wasn’t like he’d used the belt, or hit me with my workbook. It’s not like he’d seriously hurt me.

I just wondered how you could love someone and still be willing to hurt them like that. I felt so guilty just for scratching Peter, but my dad had no problem lashing me with a belt until I bled.

Maybe it was just a different kind of love. Or maybe I didn’t know what love was. I wanted to believe it was warm arms around you, telling you to go to sleep. But it’d never been that. It’d been cold and lonely.

But he told me he wanted me to succeed. Isn’t that what you want for people you love?

I held my hand to my cheek. It wasn’t stinging like earlier, but the skin was still warm and tender.

Great. It was bruising.

I wanted to go back to bed. I wanted to cry to Peter and tell him how scared I was. I wanted him to hold me and tell me he loved me.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

_Peter_

She’d been out there for a while. I’d been able to hear her crying, but it’d stopped now.

I wanted to go out on the fire escape and hug her and tell her to come back to bed. I wanted to tell her that she had me, that I wasn’t going anywhere.

But I didn’t know what the right thing to do was. If I left her out there on her own, would she be too cold and alone? If I went and joined her, would it make her feel worse?

She’d been so close to crying when she’d come back into her room. And she refused to. Because of me. She didn’t trust me enough to cry in front of me.

If I went and joined her, I’d make her feel worse.

So I stayed in her bed.

She came back in a few minutes later, wiping her cheek with the heel of her hand. Her left cheek was darkening, like it was bruising.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

She got back into bed, back to me. I wrapped myself around her, closing my eyes.

She was here. I could keep her warm, and safe.

Normally, she’d spread out as much as possible. But tonight her knees were pulled up to her chest.

“Do you wanna go downstairs?” I whispered. It was safer in my apartment. Maybe she’d spread out again.

“No, my dad’ll be mad if I’m not here in the morning.”

I squeezed her a little. “Okay. Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”


	11. admit that it hurts you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i haven't been greattttt about putting mentions/trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters for this fic oops but anyways theres a lot of sexual assault/rape mentions in this chapter (mostly implied)   
> (also i'll try to remember to put trigger warnings but as a general rule, most chapters will reference abuse in some form)

_MJ_

Uncle Antonio was in town for three days. During that time, my dad grounded me and took my phone away.

My uncle’s visits weren’t a punishment, or at least that’s what my dad told me. My uncle owned a company that my dad’s company worked with, and I was part of a deal. Dad got discounts on product shipments, and Uncle Antonio got to have…me. For a few days at a time.

So being grounded and not having my phone wasn’t a punishment. It was part of the deal. I was a toy for the time being. I wasn’t allowed to have distractions.

I spent three days with my uncle. Sometimes my dad was around, sometimes he wasn’t. When he wasn’t around, it was worse. Uncle Antonio would get rougher, meaner.

But I didn’t fight back. I let it all happen, telling myself that when it was over, I’d find a way to treat myself. Buy myself some new brushes or paint my nails or something. It was easier to think about that while Uncle Antonio was…having his way with me…than focus on what was going on.

When he left, however, so did my dad.

I had several missed texts.

_Ned: hey you didn’t come to the decath Christmas party is everything okay?_

_Betty: where were you last night? we wanted to celebrate the win with you!_

_Peter: I missed you at the party_

Take a guess at who I responded to first.

_Me: yeah, I missed you too_

_Peter: what happened?_

_Me: my uncle was visiting. I was grounded and didn’t have my phone_

_Peter: oh_

_Peter: how are you doing?_

_Me: I’m okay_

_Me: could use some non-sexual human contact tho_

_Peter: I’ll be up in a few :)_

I sighed, slowly answering the other texts and then putting my phone down.

When I’d proposed this whole…arrangement, I didn’t expect Peter and I to become so close. I didn’t expect to trust him as much as I did.

I didn’t expect him to become my best friend.

But here we were. And, I had to say, it was a welcome side effect.

_Peter_

Somehow, I was surprised she picked me over someone like Betty to keep her company right now. I knew she considered me a friend, but I didn’t think she considered me to be that close of a friend.

Although, I was probably the only person she could talk to about any of this. I only knew about it because I’d been around so much.

When she opened the door, the first thing I noticed was the bruises. There were a few dark purple ones around her neck and around her wrists, barely peeking out from the sleeves of her hoodie.

“Hey,” she said, noticing my gaze and tugging her sleeves down over the heels of her hands.

“Hi.”

“Okay,” she said, letting me into the apartment, “tell me about the party, but leave out all the good parts so I don’t feel like I missed out.”

I chuckled. “Well, Ned showed up late, Betty forgot to bring games, Cindy took a short, alcohol-induced nap-”

“Are you trying to make Cindy getting drunk to the point of passing out sound boring?” she asked, amused.

“Trying. Is it working?”

“Barely. How drunk did you get?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Let’s just say that, um, if you’d been there, you’d have enough ammunition to make fun of me for a year.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t the same as usual. It was duller, didn’t reach her eyes.

I went into her kitchen.

“Peter, what are you doing?”

“Do you have cocoa powder?”

“Yeah, wha- are you still drunk? Is that’s what’s happening here?”

“No. I’m gonna make you some hot chocolate.”

She followed me into the kitchen and pulled out the cocoa powder for me. From there, I listed off the other ingredients and she got them out for me, including a pot, whisk, and a few measuring cups.

She jumped up on the counter while I made hot chocolate on the stove.

“So, am I allowed to ask where you picked up this gourmet hot chocolate recipe?” she asked teasingly.

I smiled. “Mr. Stark taught me. It was his mom’s recipe.”

MJ raised her eyebrows at me. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I, um, I was babysitting for him and Ms. Potts one night because they both had work to catch up on. Once he was done working, he made me hot chocolate and we sat and talked and played with the baby for a while.”

She smiled a little. This one started to reach her eyes. “That’s sweet.”

“So…do you wanna talk about your last few days at all?” I asked quietly. “Or do you want a distraction?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. I noticed another bruise just under her jaw. “Distraction.”

I opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon, scooping up some hot chocolate. “Wanna try it?” I asked.

She smiled, taking the spoon from me and tasting the hot chocolate. Her eyes went impossibly wide. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.”

I laughed. “Do you want the recipe?”

She gave me puppy eyes. “But then I’ll feel like I’m…trying to be part of something I’m not.”

“You showed me how to give eggs flavour. It’s a trade. Where are your mugs?”

She pointed at a cabinet, and I got out a couple of mugs, using a measuring cup to ladle hot chocolate into them.

“You’re one of the nicest people I know, you know that?”

I handed her a mug. “Thanks, Em.”

We clinked our mugs together, and each took a sip. MJ closed her eyes, smiling a little.

If all it took to make her smile after three days trapped in an apartment with her creepy uncle was a mug of hot chocolate, I was in business.

We spent the evening in her living room, watching movies. When she finished her hot chocolate, she put the mug down on the coffee table, and laid down across the couch, her head resting on my lap.

She fell asleep soon after.

I didn’t have the heart to wake her up, so when the next movie ended, I gently shifted her head off of my lap, and then scooped her up off the couch, carrying her to her room. She turned her head into my chest.

I wanted to stay, so badly. But I couldn’t crash at her place for no reason, especially if she was already asleep. So I tucked her into bed, careful to brush the curls away from her face before I left, climbing out of her window and taking the fire escape down to my place.

When I got in, May heard and came into my room.

“Hey, honey. How was MJ?”

And then my nose stung and my eyes burned and my vision started to get blurry and-

“Are you okay, Peter?”

“No.” My voice broke, and then I was running into May’s arms and crying into her shirt.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” she asked gently, rubbing my back.

I hadn’t cried this hard in a while. But it was hard, seeing the girl I was in love with bruised and hurt and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t swing in and web a few people and make a stupid sarcastic comment and fix everything. I couldn’t undo any of it. I couldn’t stop it from happening. I couldn’t put the sparkle back in her eyes tonight, as much as I wanted to.

“Did you tell her how you feel?” May asked.

“No,” I mumbled, “she missed the party because she was stuck at home with her dad and her uncle.”

May squeezed me tighter. “How was she?”

“She said she was okay,” I sniffled, “but she didn’t seem like it.”

May sat me down on the edge of my bed, gently wiping at my cheeks. “I know this isn’t what you wanna hear, honey, but I think you might have to distance yourself from her.”

“What?” I sniffled. “No, she needs-”

“I know, Peter, but this is hurting you.”

“No, it’s not like that, it’s not her fault-”

“Listen to me,” May urged gently. “I know you love her, and I know the last thing you want to do is distance yourself or isolate her. But, please, just consider it. Put yourself first.”

I looked down. I couldn’t do that. She was being hurt. If I put myself first, her pain was my fault.

“Can I have a few minutes alone?” I asked quietly.

“Okay. I love you, Peter.”

“Love you too, May.”

She kissed the top of my head, and left my room, closing the door behind herself.

I let myself fall back into the bed, curling up in the blankets. I told myself I’d get up in a minute, go eat something and change and come back to bed.

I didn’t want to distance myself from her. I loved spending time with her, whether it was watching movies and drinking hot chocolate, or eating tacos, or fooling around. And I wanted to help. I had to.

Part of it was responsibility. But part of it was just that I cared about her. Seeing her like that tonight, with bruises and dull eyes, it sucked. Because out of everyone I knew, she deserved so much better. She deserved May’s loving, caring demeanor way more than I did. She deserved sparkling eyes and a bright smile so much more than I did.

And I wanted to be able to give it to her.

So I couldn’t abandon her. I couldn’t.

_MJ_

The next day, I invited Betty over. I needed a little break from…men.

As much as I loved Peter, it’d been hard to put aside the feeling of being unsafe, just because he was a guy. I knew he’d never do what my dad or Uncle Antonio did, but it was still hard to feel comfortable.

That being said, I dreamt about him laying next to me, arms wrapped around me, feeling safe with him. Because I normally did feel safe with him. Safe enough to fall asleep with my head in his lap after three days of being forced to do things I very much did not want to do on the same couch.

Anyways, back to Betty.

I invited her over in the evening, so when she showed up, she was shivering, and there were snowflakes suspended in her hair and on her eyelashes, already starting to melt.

“Hey, come in,” I said. “Did you walk?”

She shrugged, taking off her scarf. “Didn’t wanna pay for a cab.”

“Betty, it’s freezing.”

“I know.”

I sighed. “Here, I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

I helped her hang up her scarf and coat, and then pulled her into the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and utensils.

Peter had texted me the recipe this morning, along with a text apologizing for potentially making me uncomfortable with the fact that he’d moved me to my bed before he left.

I’d deny it if you ever told anybody, but the fact that he was so thoughtful and sweet and respectful and concerned-

Actually, no. Just the fact that he cared. That’s what made me smile this morning.

I made hot chocolate for Betty and I, and then she and I sat on my bedroom floor, playing card games.

“Where did you learn to make hot chocolate this good? It’s, like, Gordon-Ramsay-approval level good.”

Shuffling the deck of cards, I smiled, refusing to look up. “Uh, Peter made it for me yesterday.”

“MJ, you’re smiling at the thought of him making you hot chocolate.”

“It was a sweet gesture. He only did it because he felt bad I had to miss the party, anyways. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, except it’s painfully obvious how in love you are.”

I frowned. “I’m not in love with him,” I lied. “Nobody at our age knows what love really is, except maybe you and Ned.”

“Jones, how would you define love?”

That was a loaded question. I didn’t know how I’d define love. My mother had killed herself because of my dad’s abuse towards us, and my dad had sold out and turned me into his brother-in-law’s personal hooker.

I started dealing cards. “I don’t know.”

“Because I think love means that you’d do anything to make someone happy, safe, and comfortable, and doing anything you can do to be there with them. Knowing you’d be happy spending every minute of every day with them and never get bored of them. Appreciating every aspect of someone, whether it’s a strength or a flaw.” She gave me a small smile. “And based on the way you talk about Peter…”

“That’s ridiculous. I can get bored of him.”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

“No, seriously. Sometimes, he never fucking shuts up, and he rambles forever and ever and it feels like it’s never going to end-”

“I have never seen anybody hang onto his every word like you do, MJ.”

I deflated a little. Busted. “It’s not my fault he’s so smart. But-but he gets attached so easily. Like he did to Ned or Harry. He’s so quick to be loyal to a fault and that’s…that’s a flaw.”

“It sounds like you’re more concerned about that aspect of him than annoyed.”

“No, can you imagine if some kid just grabbed your leg and never let go and-”

“That’s exactly what he did you to. You just don’t see it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“He is so attached to you, MJ. He gave you a hot chocolate recipe because you missed a party, he’s spent the last few weeks as close to you as possible, he invited you to stay at the compound for dinner to introduce you to Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-”

“That’s different. They went over his head to invite me,” I argued.

“Why do you think that is?” she asked.

I hesitated. “I-I don’t know. I’m his captain, I guess, they probably-”

“They probably heard a lot about you from their honorary son who’s clearly just as in love with you as you are with him.”

I shook my head. “He’s not in love with me.”

“MJ-”

“He had no problem asking out Liz when the opportunity presented itself, and I can’t count how many opportunities he would’ve had in the last year or two to ask me out.”

“So why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I know what the answer is,” I snapped. “I’d rather not get rejected and then spend the rest of the year wanting to shoot myself every time I see him. I’m good, thanks.”

Betty just took a sip of the hot chocolate. “Okay. I can understand that.”

“Thanks.”

She changed the topic to a date Ned had taken her on after finals, and we played cards until her parents wanted her home. 

_Peter_

“Should we just order in for dinner?” May asked, looking at the fridge. “All we have is eggs.”

“We can just have some scrambled eggs,” I suggested.

She shot me a concerned look. “Is that gonna be enough for you?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been patrolling for a few days, so I’m not really hungry. Here, I’ll cook.”

I went over and took the eggs out of the fridge. May was used to me taking the wheel sometimes, especially when I wasn’t in the mood to pick charred morsels out of my dinner.

I made the eggs like MJ had shown me a while ago, and then May and I sat at the table.

“Where did you learn how to make eggs like this?” May asked, taking another bite. For once, she was eating faster than I was.

“Uh, MJ taught me. Apparently using cheese as the only seasoning on eggs is appalling.”

Her face fell a little. “Peter, we talked about-”

“I know,” I said softly. “She taught me a while ago. And…I don’t know if I can distance myself from her.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt, but she is. And I’m the only person who really knows about any of it, and I can’t just leave her to deal with it on her own.”

“Then make sure the school knows-”

“Can I be excused?”

May stared at me, shocked. “Y-yeah. Sure. You’re excused.”

“Thanks.” I took my plate into my room, sitting at my desk and dialling Mr. Stark’s number.

It rang three times, and I was ready to hear his voicemail, but then he answered, sounding tired.

“Hey, kid, what’s up?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, no, I’ve just been up for roughly 80 hours.”

“Morgan?”

“Morgan,” he confirmed with a huff. “Anyways, what’s going on, Peter?”

I hesitated. “May wants me to distance myself from MJ because she thinks I’m gonna get hurt.”

“Why does she think that?”

“Because I came home crying after hanging out with her the other day.”

Mr. Stark sighed. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really. She just…she’d spent a few days stuck at home with her dad and her uncle, and she was covered in bruises, and she wasn’t quite herself, you know? She was…duller.”

He paused, and I could hear him tapping something while he thought. “Do you want to distance yourself from her?”

“No, that’s the last thing I want.”

“Then don’t. May wants the best for you, and so do I, and I know that there’s the potential for you to get hurt, but I also know that she makes you really happy, kid.”

I stared at the plate of eggs for a while, trying to figure out what I was going to say. “I made her your hot chocolate yesterday. I was trying to cheer her up so I made her the hot chocolate and we watched some movies and she fell asleep on me,” I told him softly. I found myself smiling a little. She’d spent several days surrounded by men who were hurting her, but she felt safe enough with me to fall asleep with her head in my lap.

“Okay, kid, the day we met, do you remember what you told me?”

“No?”

“That when you can do what you can do, and you don’t, and bad things happen, they happen because of you. That’s what you told me.”

“Oh.”

“You’re wrong. I know you wanna take responsibility for what’s going on with MJ and her family, but you can’t. That’s what’s going to hurt you,” he said. “But other than that, Peter, if you don’t wanna distance yourself, don’t.”

“But-”

“No buts. All you can do for MJ is be there for her when she needs you. You can’t take responsibility for her dad’s violence.”

I sighed. “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course. Anytime, Peter. Have a good night, okay?”

“You too, Mr. Stark. Get some sleep.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, if Morgan’ll let me. Goodnight, kid.”

Click.

I finished my eggs, and brought my dishes into the kitchen. May was standing at the sink, washing her plate.

“I can take over,” I offered. She shook her head, taking my plate from me.

“It’s okay, Peter. You’re on break. I can do it.”

I started drying dishes and putting them away. “I’m not gonna distance myself from her.”

She looked at me, but didn’t say anything.

“I know it’s gonna…suck sometimes, because I know there’s not a lot I can do to help her without seriously crossing some boundaries. But she needs someone she trusts. And…I really like spending time with her.”

“Peter-”

“There is way more potential for you to get hurt because of me, May. But you’re not distancing yourself because you feel responsible for me. I-I know I’m not responsible for MJ, but I know how lonely she feels, probably better than anybody else in her life.”

May nodded. “You just can’t put her first, honey. That’s all it is.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Good talk. Wanna watch a movie?”


	12. i got nothing here without you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> violence warning for the end

_Peter_

Christmas was…great. May woke me while it was still dark, and we sat around the living room, opening our presents to each other, then binge-watched movies all day. In the evening, she and I went to the compound for dinner with Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts and Morgan.

As amazing as the day was, the best part was still the text I got just before lunch.

_MJ: merry christmas :)_

The only thing that could’ve made Christmas better is if I’d gotten to talk to her more.

When I got home from the compound, I pulled out my laptop, trying to find something for MJ and I to do the next day.

I ended up texting Happy, trying to figure something out.

Me: hey it’s peter, I need help finding a present for mj, can you give me a couple of suggestions?

Happy: first of all, I know it’s you, Peter

Happy: second, it’s a little late, don’t you think?

Me: …yeah

Happy: there’s a spa a few blocks from you and May

Happy: knowing the way you kids study, she probably needs a good massage

Me: thank you!!

I did a quick google search for spas in the area, found one, and booked a massage for MJ.

Once I’d booked it, I texted her a picture of the computer screen, cropping out how much it cost.

MJ: whoa have fun

Me: it’s for you

Me: merry Christmas

MJ: really??

MJ: trying to get on my good side so I go easy on you in decathlon?

Me: I’m up for side benefits

MJ: lol

MJ: thanks, peter

Me: of course

Me: I’ll borrow May’s car and drive tomorrow :)

MJ: wow you’re really going all out for me

Me: takes a lot of work to get on your good side

MJ: dork. see you tomorrow

Me: see you then

Texting her shouldn’t have made me smile so big my cheeks hurt, but here we were.

And, man, thank goodness for, um, “Christmas bonuses” courtesy of Mr. Stark.

\---

The next day, I stood outside her door while she grabbed a coat. She came out into the hallway, shrugging her coat on.

“Ready?”

She fluffed her hair out of her jacket, dark curls landing all around her shoulders. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

I pressed my lips together so I didn’t smile. God, she was just _gorgeous_.

I held out my arm. “M’lady,” I teased.

She laughed, looking down as she looped her arm through mine and shoved her hand in her pocket. “You’re lucky I put up with you, dorkus.”

“Sure am.”

We went downstairs to the parking garage, got in May’s car, and headed out.

“Oh, shit, I forgot your present on my desk,” she mumbled, looking into her purse.

“It’s okay, I don’t need anything.”

“No, I made you something. It’s fine, I’ll give it to you when we get back.”

I smiled a little as we backed out of the parking spot. She’d made me something. That meant she spent time on it, it was personal.

\---

We got to the spa, and I showed them my email receipt to get her in, and then they seated me in a chair, just outside her room, while she went in and changed.

“You can come in, if you want,” MJ called through the door.

A tiny voice in my head told me, Peter, this is a bad idea. MJ is naked under a towel, about to be slathered in massage oils and-

Before I let the voice finish that thought, I went in.

The room was small and dim. MJ was laying on her stomach on a table in the middle of the room, towel draped over her from the waist down.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to be in here,” I said.

She lifted her head a little. “Yeah, I don’t think you are, but they told me I had to wait ten minutes for the masseuse and I feel like being naked alone in a room for ten minutes is gonna drive my anxiety through the roof.”

I laughed. “So you threw a teenage boy into the mix?”

“Hey, it’d be different if you were Flash. I trust you.”

Smiling, I said, “I’m glad I’m higher up on your list of trustworthy teenage boys than Flash.”

“It’s not much of a compliment.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She smiled at me. “Good. Don’t let it go to your head.”

I started poking around the room, looking at bottles of essential oils and crystals and incense. “I’m kind of jealous, to be honest. I should’ve gotten two massages for today.”

“What, like a couple’s massage?” MJ teased.

I scoffed. “That’d be…”

“A good way to get some afterwards.”

Just as I was about to respond, the masseuse walked in.

“Sorry, sir, but I’ll have to ask you to wait outside for the duration of Miss Jones’s massage.”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

MJ winked at me as I left the room.

I closed the door behind me, and sat down in a chair, pulling out my phone and going through the trending hashtags on Twitter.

_Why is Spider-Man trending? I haven’t been patrolling in days._

Reading through a few tweets, I realized that I was trending _because_ I hadn’t been patrolling. There was speculation that I’d been hurt, or was on a long-term mission of some sort.

Nope, just taking a break after finals.

I jumped onto the Stark Industries account (still thought it was absolutely wild that I had access to it), and was mid-way through a tweet stating that Spider-Man was fine, just taking a break, when I heard a moan come from MJ’s room.

_Peter, that’s normal, she’s getting a massage. Really, what did you expect?_

I tried to go back to the tweet, but then she moaned, “Ohh, that feels so good.”

That put some…less than PG-13 thoughts in my head.

_Tweet, Peter. Focus._

“Right there,” she sighed.

\---

I spent an hour sitting outside the room, listening to her sighs and moans and pleas. Didn’t finish the tweet.

When she walked out, all of her hair was pulled to one side, her t-shirt slipping off of one shoulder. Her collarbone was…glowing, almost.

Oil. That was massage oil.

She looked at me, then glanced down, at where I was strategically holding my jacket in my lap.

“Thanks for the massage, Peter. Best Christmas present ever.”

I was a little shell-shocked, to be honest. I’d spent the last hour listening to her say things she’d said to me, verbatim, generally when we were alone in a bedroom. And now she was standing in front of me, looking like an actual goddess.

“Good god, you dork. Come on.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the spa, thanking the ladies at the front desk before dragging me out to the car. I scrambled to grab my keys out of my pocket, unlocking the car. She pulled open the backseat door.

“MJ, what are you-”

“Get in, asshole.”

_MJ_

It took a little longer than I would’ve liked, but I got Peter into the backseat.

Thankful I’d opted for a long skirt rather than pants today, I climbed into his lap, kissing his neck.

“MJ,” he whimpered, his hands on my waist. “MJ, this is-”

“An empty parking lot behind a spa on boxing day,” I mumbled. “And you’re tenting in jeans, Parker.”

His hands down my legs, then hiked my skirt up. I fumbled, reaching over into my purse and digging around until I felt foil. I pulled it out, holding it in my closed hand as I slid my arm around his neck, pressing my lips to his.

His hands were on my hips, skin separated by thin lace. I was pushing into him, hoping he’d get the hint to touch me.

I’d never admit it out loud, but I was pretending Peter was the masseuse for a good part of the massage. At first, it was because I wanted to feel a little safer, but then it was because I knew he was outside and I wanted him to get worked up.

So we could end up here, in the back seat of his aunt’s car, making out and moaning.

He slipped a hand between my legs, moving the fabric aside so he could touch me. I started having trouble kissing him, my focus split. I gave up on that, instead pressing my forehead to his and unbuttoning his jeans while he pushed two fingers into me. He curled his fingers, and I yelped, arching my back.

“Peter,” I moaned, “ _Peter_.”

He kissed my neck, lips pressing gently under my ear.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out some of the sensation so I could focus on pulling him out of his pants and boxers. I scrambled to get the condom out of the wrapper and roll it onto him.

“Em,” he breathed, hands guiding my hips.

I slowly sank down on him, sighing as I did. “Holy _shit_.”

He started lifting my hips, and slowly letting me back down. I kept moaning, my forehead resting against his. I could feel his breath, hot on my skin.

“Em, we gotta be faster,” he mumbled, his hands lifting my hips again.

“Mkay.”

It was easier being on top this time. Maybe I was too focused on how good it felt to realize my thighs were burning, or maybe Peter was putting in a little more work than last time, but it was a lot more enjoyable.

I dropped my head so I could kiss his neck, and he tilted his head away to give me better access, moaning softly as he did.

_Fuck you and your simultaneously hot and cute moans, Parker._

My hands balled up his shirt, the fabric preventing me from tearing apart my palms with my nails.

I deliberately left a hickey, too. I’d show him how to cover it up so May didn’t see it, but for now I just wanted to…brand him, I guess.

For a minute, I let myself pretend this meant something. That it wasn’t just “practice”. That the ridiculously adorable boy under me wanted more than that.

He groaned a little, and I could feel his movements stutter.

“Peter?”

“Coming,” he mumbled.

I kept going, letting him work through it. Eventually, he gently lifted me off of him. I got off of his lap, sitting down on the seat next to him as he pulled the condom off and tied it, tossing it in the plastic bag May kept in here for garbage.

“Remind me to throw the bag out when we get home,” he breathed.

I nodded.

He rebuttoned his pants, then looked at me. “You didn’t finish.”

I knew it wasn’t a question, but before I could really answer, he was adjusting, kneeling on the floor of the car, lifting my skirt so he could duck into it. His hands shifted my panties, holding the fabric aside enough for him to start licking wide stripes. My breath caught in my throat, and I desperately pulled my skirt up just so I could tangle my fingers in his curly hair.

It was a weird thing to notice in a moment like this, but I realized he hadn’t gotten a haircut in a long time. His curls used to be easy to comb into submission, since they were short enough that they were only really half-curls. But the curls that were wrapped around my fingers were long and wild, fully-formed.

He started sucking on my clit, and it snapped me out of my reverie. I moaned, pulling on his hair.

“Peter,” I panted.

He responded by pushing two fingers into me, curling them to press against my g-spot. I arched my back, bracing my head against the seat. He started humming, the same way I’d hum sometimes when I was giving him head.

“God, Peter.”

I kept arching my back, squeezing my thighs around him, crying out as I was hit with my orgasm.

It seemed to last forever. I could feel my brain fizzling out, thoughts replaced with while noise, probably short circuited by the electric shocks zipping up my spine.

When it settled, I realized how hard I’d been pulling at his hair.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, letting go.

“It’s okay.”

He, very politely, readjusted my panties and pulled my skirt down.

“Thanks. For the massage, and for the, uh, car sex,” I said.

He grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He started to lean towards me, and I thought for a split second that he was going to kiss me, but he just adjusted my shirt. “Come on, we should get home.”

Right. I forgot to stop pretending that it meant something.

We got out of the backseat and got into the front. I took the plastic bag of garbage off of the stick shirt and tied the handles in a knot, so we didn’t forget to take it in. May finding a condom wrapper and used condom would ~~probably~~ be a dead giveaway as to what happened in the car.

It was quiet for a while, each of us shooting the occasional glance at each other. We’d have to freshen up a bit when we got up to my apartment. His hair was a disaster, his shirt was wrinkled where I’d grabbed it, and the hickey on his neck was turning dark purple.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, sounding self-conscious.

“Nothing. Just remind me to show you how to cover that hickey when we get up to my apartment.”

He laughed, hand going to his neck. “You, um, you never told me what you said to Betty about the hickeys I gave you.”

Oh. Right.

“It’s…a long story,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t press.

“Come on, I’m curious.”

I sighed. “So, um, you remember that orange lingerie?”

“Yeah?”

“I took Betty to the mall to get it, but obviously I couldn’t tell her it was for you…so I told her I’d started talking to Miles again.”

He gave a hesitant nod. “Have you?” Did he sound jealous, or was I overthinking?

“No. Anyways, I told her the hickeys were the result of me wearing the lingerie with Miles a couple days before the competition.”

He was quiet for a couple minutes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you…fooled around with anyone else yet?”

“Is that jealousy I sense, Peter?”

“No, no, I’m just…curious. I wanna see how I compare.”

“I haven’t,” I answered. “You?”

“Me neither.”

I hesitated. “We should probably…tell each other if we do. Just for, like, safe sex reasons.”

“Yeah. Deal.”

“Deal.”

Despite myself, I started giggling a little.

“What?”

“We’re ridiculous. You took me for a massage, and I literally tried to get you worked up, and then we fucked in the back of your aunt’s car, and now we’re being all weird.”

He stared at me for way too long, considering he was driving. “You tried to get me worked up?”

“Yeah, dude. Nobody actually says stuff like that during a massage.”

He scoffed. “Wow. That was kind of mean.”

“Are you saying you regret the sex? Because that’s what led to it.”

“No,” he admitted.

\---

When we got home, I made sure the car was all clean, and we went up to my apartment.

“Okay, let me help you cover up that hickey,” I said, starting to pull him towards my bathroom. He stopped, like his feet were glued to the floor, and looked around the apartment. “Peter.”

“Why didn’t you decorate for Christmas?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It was just me, anyways.”

“What?”

“My dad’s out of town again. No point in decorating for a family holiday when it’s just me.”

He gave me the biggest puppy eyes I’d ever seen, including from actual puppies. “What did you do yesterday?”

“Nothing, really. I mainly just finished your present.”

“You didn’t celebrate at all?”

I shook my head.

“Why didn’t you say something? You could’ve come downstairs and spent the day with May and I.”

“No, that’s…that’s your family. I don’t wanna intrude on it.”

“MJ-”

I could feel my nose start to sting. “Can we drop it? It’s not a big deal. Come on.”

Reluctantly, he followed me into my bathroom. I pulled open my makeup drawer, which thankfully had about a million makeup samples I’d never used. I pulled out one of those, then a colour corrector, grabbing some of the yellow colour on a brush.

“This might hurt a little, because I have to use a bit of pressure to blend it out,” I warned him, starting to brush the product on.

“It feels thick,” he said, scrunching his nose.

“It’s a cream product. It’s meant to be thick,” I told him gently. “It’s not hurting, is it?”

“No, it feels kind of…nice.”

I smiled, blending the edges. “Alright, you’re probably the lightest shade in the book-”

“Hey!”

“Peter, you know I-”

I stopped myself.

“I know you what?”

I had been about say “I love you” straight to his face.

You know, like a moron.

“Nothing. It was a dumb joke.”

I cracked open the lightest shade in a sample, and used a clean brush to cover the yellow splotch on his skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You had to spend three days with your dad and your uncle, and then you spent Christmas alone.”

I forced a smile, and lied through my teeth. “I’m fine, Peter.”

“Do you want me to stay here tonight? I can sleep on the couch, or-or you can come downstairs and spend the night with May and I.”

That sounded so nice. All I wanted to do was curl up under some blankets with him.

Part of me couldn’t stand the idea of another night alone in the apartment. It was cold and lonely and every time I closed my eyes, I’d feel Uncle Antonio’s weight on top of me.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Against my better judgement, I looked up and met his eyes. He was giving me a soft smile.

“Yeah. May’s making dinner tonight, which really just means she’s gonna burn something, set off the smoke alarm, give up and order pizza.”

I blended the last of the foundation on his neck. “Beats being alone all night.”

I pulled out some powder and set the foundation, then moved away so he could look in the mirror.

“I wouldn’t guess there was a car-sex-induced hickey on my neck.”

I snorted. “Dork. Come on, lemme give you your present before we go downstairs.”

He followed me into my room, and I gave him the small gift bag that was on my desk.

“It’s kind of…small and stupid,” I said softly, watching him pull the tissue paper out.

He pulled out the gifts at the bottom of the bag. I’d made a few buttons, and a couple of patches. I watched his reaction carefully.

He smiled, holding up the first patch. It said “Stank Industries”.

“I love it.”

I scoffed a little. “Yeah, of course, Peter.”

He put them back in the bag and set it down on my desk. “You’re gonna have to help me put those patches on some jackets,” he said, stepping closer and pulling me into a hug.

“Dork,” I mumbled into his shoulder, hugging him back.

“Yeah. Merry Christmas, Em.”

“Merry Christmas, Peter.”

\---

Later on, while we were downstairs at May’s, I got a call from my dad.

“Where are you, Michelle?”

“I’m, um, at a neighbour’s place,” I answered nervously, shooting May and Peter and apologetic look and standing up to leave the living room. Peter paused the movie for me.

“Come home. Right now.”

“Are you home?” I asked.

Man, I’d just gotten all of the tension massaged out of me. I could feel my muscles knotting right back up.

“Now, Michelle.”

“Okay, I’ll be right up.”

He hung up. I went back into the living room.

“Hey, um, my dad’s home early, so I have to go back upstairs.”

I was hoping neither of them would notice the way my voice started to shake at the end, but they shot each other a look.

They definitely noticed.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Peter asked.

I shook my head. “No, I think that’ll make it worse,” I told him, forcing a smile at the end so I didn’t come off too scared.

“Do you want _me_ to walk you up, honey?” May offered sweetly.

I hesitated. My dad wouldn’t want to see anybody with me, but I really didn’t wanna go up alone, and better May than a teenage boy, right?

God, I could almost feel the lashes I’d get with the belt.

“No, I think I just have to go up alone. Thanks for having me over.”

“Have a good night, MJ,” May said.

“Goodnight.”

Peter got up, walking me to the door. “Can you text me before you go to sleep so I know if you need me to sneak upstairs with some comfort food?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, okay. Goodnight, dorkus.” I ruffled his hair, stepping out of his apartment.

“Goodnight, Em.” He shot me one last smile before closing the door.

I hurried upstairs. Dad was standing in the doorway, holding my sketchbook.

_Oh, no._

“You got home early.”

“I’m only here for a few hours. I’m going to Dubai for a company retreat tonight. Get inside. Now.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, slamming the door behind him.

_Happy thoughts, MJ. Puppies. Abortion legalization. Honeybee populations rising. Peter hugging you._

“Is this what you’ve been spending all of your time on?” Dad shouted, shaking my sketchbook.

“I have to complete a certain amount of pages for my art class-”

“The drop the class, Michelle. Clearly it distracted you from finals.”

“I need fine arts credits for my university applications.”

He paused, glaring at me, then opened the sketchbook, flipping through the pages. “You’re not even good at it, Michelle. What, do you think you’re the next Van Gogh? These are sloppy, unrealistic. You couldn’t put together a colour palette to save your life. Give up.”

“Dad-”

He showed me one of the pages. It was a drawing of Peter, sleeping. “Your proportions are all off, the crosshatching is chaotic, the style itself is derivative.” He threw the sketchbook on the floor, then crossed the room to me. “You’re just like your mother,” he spat. “Obsessed with things that would never get you anywhere in life. You’re gonna end up just like her, too. Stuck with a daughter you regret having and killing yourself in your own apartment. Really, she did the world a service. She was a waste of space.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“How we felt about you was the only thing she and I had in common.”

My lower lip was quivering. “You can’t-”

He picked up the sketchbook and hit me with it, right across the face. It hit by my eyebrow, and I lost my balance, falling onto the couch, and then onto the floor. As I scrambled to prop myself up on my elbows, he dropped the sketchbook onto me, and it fell open on my stomach.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll burn it.”

He walked out, slamming the front door behind him.

I touched my face, and a drop of blood came off on my fingers.

Letting myself fall back, I sighed.

He wasn’t _wrong_.


	13. you take my cares away

_MJ_

The next morning, Peter texted me, asking when I wanted to come over. I told him to give me an hour or two and then I’d be downstairs.

I went to the bathroom and peeled off the band-aid I’d put next to my eye.

Thankfully, the cut from the hit was tiny, and had scabbed overnight. That meant I could cover it up with makeup.

The bruises were around my eye, on my orbital bone, and there was another one on top of my cheekbone.

It took some colour correcting and concealer, but I managed to cover them up.

I ate breakfast, grabbed my sewing kit, and went downstairs.

_Peter_

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Come in.”

She followed me into my bedroom, and I had a selection of hoodies and sweaters and jackets out on the bed.

“I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea which patches will go best with which sweater,” I admitted.

She smiled a little. “I’ll help you. Where are the patches?”

I grabbed them off of my desk and handed them to her. She started laying them out on hoodies and sweaters, adjusting the placement to see where they looked best, narrowing her eyes to see if they were straight.

She was so focused. I had to force myself not to stare but…how could I not? She was chewing on her bottom lip, and her hair was tucked behind her ears, and she just looked so beautiful.

I had to shove my hands in my pockets so I didn’t just grab her and kiss her.

“Okay, how does this look to you?”

She’d put the three patches on two hoodies and one jacket. The “Stank Industries” patch was on a red jacket, the “dork” patch was on a grey hoodie, and the “MJ’s Stamp of Approval” patch was on a white hoodie.

“Perfect,” I said, half-referring to the patches. “Do you, um, want anything while you’re sewing? Water? Snacks?”

“I wouldn’t mind some music.”

I turned on a playlist, and then we sat on my floor, chatting while she sewed.

Again, she was so focused and beautiful. I didn’t know anybody who could somehow look graceful while sewing patches onto hoodies.

She finished the first one, the “MJ’s Stamp of Approval” one, and handed it to me.

“One down, two to go.”

I put it on, and posed jokingly. “How do I look?”

She looked up and laughed. “Like I should’ve given you the ‘dork’ one first,” she teased.

As she worked on the second hoodie, I watched her carefully. She was carrying less tension in her shoulders than before yesterday, but it still felt like something was off. Her laugh wasn’t as loud as usual, and her shoulders seemed to slump forwards.

“Hey, what happened with your dad last night?” I asked.

Her head snapped up, just a little too fast. “Nothing, why?”

“You don’t seem like yourself today.”

She went back to sewing. “It was fine. He was only in town for a couple of hours. He’s in Dubai or something now.”

I scooted closer. “Why didn’t you ask me to come upstairs after he left? You said you didn’t wanna be alone.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Em-”

“I don’t know,” she repeated. She finished sewing and handed me the hoodie. “Here you go, dork.”

“Thanks.”

She grabbed the jacket and the “Stank Industries” patch, and started sewing again.

“How did you get so good at making patches?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I embroidered half of my closet last year. I got good at it.”

“Did you…make all of the patches on your backpack?” I asked.

Nodding, she said, “And all of the buttons and stickers I have, too.”

“Dude, you could sell that stuff online. Like on Etsy or something.”

“I don’t think I have time to maintain an Etsy shop. Not to mention, I don’t think these are quite good enough to sell online.”

“I would’ve thought you bought these if it weren’t for the fact that you told me you made them.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”

“It’s the truth.”

It was silent for a minute, and then she looked up. “Hey, do you mind holding the jacket right here? I can’t hold it straight myself.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I scooted closer, until our knees were touching, and held the jacket, supporting under the patch so it didn’t sag. MJ kept sewing, looking as focused as ever.

I felt a little prick, and jumped.

“Did I poke you?” she asked, eyes going wide.

I pulled my hand away, shaking it a little. My finger was stinging, but it wasn’t bad. It’d probably heal within a minute. “Yeah, just a little.”

She seemed to…switch modes, almost. Silently, she put down the jacket, then took off her belt and handed it to me.

“MJ, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer, standing up and taking off her shirt, facing away from me.

Oh. The belt was for me to hit her with.

I scrambled to my feet and stood in front of her. “I’m not gonna hit you.”

“I hurt you,” she argued. She was holding her shirt in tight fists, like she was bracing for pain.

“You barely poked me, and it was my fault for having my hand in the way. You couldn’t see it.”

“I hurt you.” She looked scared, despite insisting I hurt her. Her eyebrows were drawn up and together, and her lower lip was quivering.

“My finger’s not even bleeding, see?” I held up my hand, but she wasn’t paying attention. She turned around again, hunching her back a little. “I’m not going to hit you, MJ. Do you know how awful I’d feel? I can’t hurt you.”

“But I hurt you,” she insisted.

I dropped the belt and turned her around to face me, gently. “Okay, let’s just take a long, hot shower. We’ll both feel better.”

She refused to look at me, eyeing the floor like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. “I’m not supposed to take hot showers.”

“It’s okay here, MJ. Listen, we’ll take a hot shower, and then we can go get some take out and hang out for the rest of the day. Deal?”

Her shoulders sagged a little. God, she looked like a kicked puppy. “I should just go back upstairs.”

“I’m- MJ, I’m not mad at you.”

“You should be. I hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to. And, seriously, MJ, you could drop an anvil on me and I _still_ wouldn’t feel right hitting you.”

She snorted softly. “Anvil. Dork.”

“Are you okay with the shower idea?”

“Yeah.”

She insisted on sewing the rest of the patch on, so while she did that, I got out some towels and clothes.

She came into the bathroom and started to undress. I averted my eyes. You’d think I’d be comfortable watching her undress, considering how many times I’d undressed her, but it still felt wrong.

I undressed as quickly as possible and got into the shower. She stepped in a moment later.

“The more you make me shower with warm water, the less I enjoy my cold showers,” she whined.

“Why can’t you shower in warm water?”

“It’s a waste of money.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “But isn’t your dad paying the bills?”

She nodded.

“And isn’t he, like, filthy rich?”

“He always says that a fool and his money are soon parted.”

“He owns a _Tesla_ , MJ.”

“Yeah, and makes up for that with five minutes in cold water,” she sighed. “I don’t know. I know not to question his rules.”

She wiped at her face, where water was dripping from her eyebrow, and dark blue seemed to appear where she’d touched her face.

“MJ? What’s on your eyebrow?”

“Nothing.”

I moved to touch her face, and she flinched away.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated.

“Is it a bruise?”

She sighed, wiping at the skin, wincing when she did. Makeup washed away, revealing dark bruises around her eye and on her cheekbone, and a small scab just below her eyebrow.

“There, happy?”

“MJ-”

“I’m just gonna get out-”

“Whoa, come here.”

MJ looked at me, brown eyes watering a little. I opened my arms, and she gave in, hugging me. She rested the right side of her face, the unbruised side, on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Her voice was soft.

Part of me felt guilty. We weren’t even doing anything, but she was upset and I’d gotten her naked and in my shower and now she was hugging me, and I hadn’t touched her, but I felt like I was doing something wrong. Like I was taking advantage of her.

“Do you want me to get out and let you have a minute to yourself?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure? I feel like…I’m taking advantage of you.”

“You’re not taking advantage of me, Peter,” she sighed, lifting her head off of my shoulder and backing away. “You haven’t tried anything.”

“But that doesn’t mean-”

“Just stay in the shower, dork.”

I smiled a little. “Hey, I have a patch that says ‘dork’ on it.”

“Wow, where’d you get it?” she teased.

“This really cool girl who goes to my school made it for me.”

She stared at me. “Cool. You called me cool. Dude, I’m literally the school loner.”

“Because you’re too cool for anybody else to handle.”

She laughed. “Whatever you say, dude.”

\---

After the shower, we got dressed and sat in my living room, watching TV. She was wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my sweatpants, scrolling through her phone, trying to find a place to order food from.

“We could just get burgers from that place downstairs,” MJ suggested.

“Sounds good to me.”

She sighed. “I just don’t feel like moving. How do you ever do anything after a shower like that?”

I laughed. “Generally, you have to lay on your bed in a towel for half an hour first.”

“That sounds like such a waste of time.”

“It kind of is.”

“What about Indian food?”

I looked at her. “You just wanna see me suffer, don’t you?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Rude.”

“Hey, there’s Indian food that isn’t spicy. Probably.”

I shoved her shoulder, gently, and she giggled.

“Okay, fine, I’ll go downstairs and get us burgers.”

“I can get it,” I offered. “Just don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

“Peter-”

I ruffled her hair, the same way she always did to me. “I’ll be back up in a bit.”

She sighed, sinking into the couch. “Okay. Can you ask for mine with no tomato, extra pickles?”

“Got it.”

_MJ_

He came back up with a brown paper bag and a drink tray.

“You like iced tea, right?”

I nodded as he handed me the drink. “Yeah. Thanks, Peter.”

“No problem.”

He pulled out the burgers, giving me one, then pulled out a lethal amount of fries, sitting those on the coffee table. I unwrapped my burger halfway and took a bite.

“How is it?” he asked.

I covered my mouth with my hand. “Really good,” I mumbled through my burger.

He smiled, taking a bite of his.

We ate, chatting while we did. Honestly, it was a nice afternoon. I was glad we got to hang out, even if we weren’t doing much. I had his company, which was all I really cared about, anyways.

“You have some ketchup on your cheek,” he said.

“Oh.” I swiped at my cheek with the back of my hand.

He chuckled. “You missed it. Here.” He grabbed a napkin and leaned forwards, wiping gently at my cheek. “There you go.”

He didn’t really…lean back. We just held eye contact for a few seconds.

I wanted to kiss him _so_ badly, but if I did that we had to have sex, and I really just did not have the energy for that.

Turning away, I said, “Do you wanna go see a movie or something? There’s, um, a double feature tonight, I think.”

“Yeah, sure.”

_Peter_

Seeing the double with feature with MJ was really nice. We shared a bucket of popcorn, which meant our hands brushed every so often.

Wow, my internal monologue makes me sound like I’m still a virgin.

I had way more fun watching MJ’s reactions than watching the movie. At school, she was always stone cold, every facial expression carefully calculated.

In the dark of a movie theatre, though, she was like a little kid. She became the most expressive person I’d ever met.

\---

When we got home, she made a beeline for my bed, flopping onto it.

“Why are double features so exhausting?”

“You go through a lot of emotions in, like, four hours.”

She started to sit up. “Sorry, I’ll go upstairs in a minute.”

“It’s okay, Em. You could probably use the rest.”

“I’ll stay on the couch-”

I gave her a pointed look. “I’m sure our arrangement allows for bed sharing, even when there’s no sex involved.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to make hot chocolate?”

“That’s okay. I just wanna go to sleep.”

I held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go brush our teeth first.”

She took my hand and let me help her up, then we went to my bathroom and brushed our teeth. I could see her getting sleepier and sleepier. By the time she was shuffling into my bedroom, her eyes were half-shut and I was concerned she’d just give up and fall asleep on the ground.

But she got into bed, and I crawled in next to her.

“You could’ve called me up yesterday,” I told her. “I would’ve made you hot chocolate.”

She put her head on my chest, on arm resting over my stomach. “I didn’t want you to see the bruise.”

“MJ-”

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

I stroked her hair. “It’s okay. You know I’m never going to hurt you, right?”

She was quiet.

“Right?”

“But I hurt you by accident,” she whispered.

“I’m never going to hurt you,” I insisted. “Pinky promise.”

She chuckled a little, holding up her pinky. I hooked mine around it and shook.

“Sleep tight, okay?” I whispered.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

It took all of my will power not to kiss her head.


	14. just wanna have a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexual assault trigger warning. it's mild, but it's there  
> also, i know i keep saying "don't expect daily updates!" but i don't have any friends so i wrote all weekend (that last part's not true, i was invited to a gay bar but i didn't go bc all the girls there are like 25 and i'm 18 lol)

_Peter_

New Year’s Eve rolled around a few days later. As per tradition, Harry held a huge party at his place, and as per tradition, I felt extremely out of place. I was surrounded by teenagers making out anywhere they could. Couches, against walls, on top of tables. That included Ned and Betty, who had excused themselves to a bathroom.

Which left me, standing alone in the kitchen, drinking beer that tasted awful out of a red cup.

I felt a hand on my head, ruffling my hair. I turned to see MJ. She was wearing this slinky, sparkly dress, and was actually wearing makeup.

“You got a hair cut,” she said.

“You’re…dressed up.”

She looked down. “Yeah, Betty made me go the full nine yards.”

“It’s a good look on you.”

“Thank you.” She was smiling, but it wasn’t the same one I got when it was just the two of us. It was the smile she gave in decathlon.

Nevertheless, it was a beautiful smile.

“Where are we at in the countdown?” she asked.

I checked my phone. “Two hours until next year.”

“Dork.”

I pointed at my patch. “And proud.”

She snorted. “You’re only proving me right, you know.”

I was about to say something, but someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around, to see a girl from Midtown I’d literally never spoken to.

“Hi, sorry, I was actually just-”

I turned back, but MJ was gone.

“Never mind. Hi.”

She smiled. She was cute and blonde and had a nice smile. “Hi. I’m Lily.”

“Peter. Parker. Peter Parker,” I stammered. I laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m…”

“Not good with girls?” she asked. “Or, um, a dork?” She pointed at my hoodie.

“Yeah, dork about sums it up.”

She started talking, and I was half-listening, but I was half-thinking about MJ. God, she looked amazing tonight.

“-but Harry told me about how good you are on the decathlon team.”

I tuned back in. “Why?”

“Well, he knows that I have a thing for smart dorks and you’re pretty cute for a smart dork.”

I blinked. “I- um- you- I-”

She rolled her eyes, smiling a little, and grabbed me by the front of my shirt, pulling me towards her. I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Sorry, I just, um, I can’t.”

She frowned, letting go of me. “Oh.”

“It’s not-”

“No, it’s okay. I was a little forward.”

I smiled apologetically. “Can you point me in the direction of Harry, by any chance?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s in the dining room. Last time I saw him he was playing beer pong.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I headed towards the dining room, avoiding drunk dancers on the way. I found Harry high-fiving a couple of guys I didn’t know.

“Peter! How’s Lily?”

I frowned. “I didn’t really talk to her. Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure.”

He pulled me into a nook where it was quieter. “What’s up?”

“Why’d you throw a girl my way?”

“Whoa, Parker. First of all, she’s her own person, she can make her own decisions.”

I snorted.

“Second, you need to get over MJ. She’s a cute girl and all, but come on, Peter. You can’t-”

“We’ve been hooking up.”

Harry balked. _“What?”_

“It started after that party we were at a few months ago, with the game of Never Have I Ever, and-”

“I’m sorry, is innocent little Peter Parker having casual sex?” he said, his voice a little too loud.

I hushed him. “I’m not little. You’re just…tall.”

“Whatever. Listen, if you really think the best way to her heart is through her-”

“That’s not at _all_ what I think. But it’s…kind of too late. I’m in too deep.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “How deep?”

I huffed, looking away and rubbing the back of my neck. “Like, whispering ‘I love you’ to her when she’s asleep. That’s how deep.”

He took a breath, staring at me. “Wow. Okay, that changes things.”

“You think?”

“No, I meant that I thought this was just a crush. Like you had on Liz. But that’s the real deal.”

“I don’t know what to do, Harry.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the last time I saw you, you’d barely kissed a girl, and now you’re getting it on with Michelle Jones.”

I sighed, swirling the last drops of beer in my cup. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Don’t throw anybody else my way, okay?”

“Got it. Have a good night, Peter.”

“You too.”

_MJ_

I finally found Harry, surrounded by drunk dudebros close to the beer pong table.

“Hey!”

“Hey, MJ. You look hot.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the objectification. Listen, I have to ask you something but you have to promise not to tell anybody.”

He raised his eyebrows at me. “Do I need to take you up to my room?”

I hesitated. I had been about to ask him to introduce me to one of his drunk dudebros, but, well, I’d known Harry a lot longer. Even if I didn’t know him well, it was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a little scary, hooking up with a guy at a party, especially if you’ve never done anything before, but-”

“I have,” I admitted. “Done stuff.”

There was something smug about the way he smirked at me, like he was getting something out of me that he already knew. “What kind of stuff?”

I scoffed. “Okay, yeah, introduce me to one of your friends.”

“Wait, no, lemme guess. Second base.”

I crossed my arms.

“Third base? Am I getting warmer or colder?”

“Harry, you’re an ass.”

“You’ve gone all the way, haven’t you?”

I sighed. “Yes. Shut up.”

“Who with? I distinctly remember you not drinking during a certain game of Never Have I Ever.”

I glared at him. “Why do you need to know?”

“So I know who I need to show up.”

_Why can’t Drunk Harry be as gentlemanly as Sober Harry? It’d make this so much easier._

“Peter.”

“Parker?”

“That’s the only Peter either of us know, Osborn.”

He laughed. “Fine. Why are you trying to seduce me if you know you can seduce him?”

“Because I’m trying to…get him out of my system.”

“Why’s that?”

“Take a guess, asshat.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you in love with him?” he asked quietly.

“Yes. Shut up. Don’t tell anybody.”

“If you’re in love with him, go tell him.”

“No.” I uncrossed my arms. “He- with what he knows about me, he’ll never look at me like that. So I need to just…get over him.”

Harry held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

I took his hand, and he started leading me to the stairs.

My stomach started to twist. Maybe this was a bad idea. I was pretty drunk, and so was he.

No, MJ. You have to get over Peter. Spending three days thinking about the way he stroked your hair is all kinds of unhealthy.

“You sure about this, MJ? You can back out.”

I shook my head. “Just this once, Osborn.”

He grinned, then lifted the tape he’d used to bar off the stairs, and let me go first. I ducked under the tape, and waited for him to join me. He took my hand again, and started jogging up the stairs. I stumbled a little.

“How drunk are you, Jones?”

“Four shots and a beer. And I’m a lightweight.”

He chuckled. “Want me to carry you?”

“I’m okay.”

He kept a hand on my back the rest of the way up the stairs.

I caught a glimpse of someone in a familiar grey hoodie and familiar brown curls.

_MJ, you’re not supposed to be thinking about Peter._

Harry led me into his room, closing the door behind us.

“Have I mentioned yet tonight that you look hot as hell in that dress?”

“Lemme guess. It’ll look better on your floor?”

He nodded, licking his lips as he stepped towards me. His hands fell on my waist, and he started kissing my neck.

_This feels wrong._

His hand dropped to my waist, gripping hard, and he lifted me. On instinct, I wrapped my legs around him, and he carried me over to his dresser, setting me down. His hand started to push the dress up my leg, his thumb slipping under my panties.

_This feels wrong._

“Harry-”

He muffled me with a kiss, tongue snaking in past my lips.

_Just relax. Enjoy it. It’ll get your mind off of Peter._

I figured that if I hooked up with somebody else tonight, they’re hands would feel like Peter’s, and that’d be why I’d have to stop.

His hands felt like my uncle’s.

_This feels wrong._

I pushed at his chest. “I need a breather.”

“You’ll overthink.”

He kissed me again, and I made a muffled noise against his mouth. I pushed him away again.

“Harry, I really just need a minute.”

He tilted his head at me. “You sound unsure, but your legs are still wrapped around me.”

“I just want a _minute_. Geez.”

“I can last longer than that, come on, MJ.”

He kissed me again, hands sliding up my dress to my waist.

All I could think about was Uncle Antonio, and it make me feel sick.

I unwrapped my legs and put a foot to his stomach, pushing him back. “No, Harry, I…I changed my mind. I don’t wanna do this.”

“Why? Are you scared?”

_Yeah, kind of._

“No, I just…we’re both drunk and-”

“So let’s just be reckless for a bit. And then you can go back to Michelle Jones, captain of the decathlon team.”

“I don’t wanna-”

The door swung open, hitting the wall.

Peter was standing in the doorway, looking angry.

I’d never seen him look angry. It was scary, too. He was glaring daggers at Harry, and I was legitimately scared he was going to hit him.

“She said no, Osborn.”

_Peter_

Against my better judgement, I went upstairs, and stood outside Harry’s room. I expected to hear MJ’s moans, but I didn’t. Instead, it sounded like she was trying to get him off of her.

“I need a breather.”

“You’ll overthink.”

I could hear MJ’s heart rate going up, like she was starting to panic.

Of course she’d panic. This had happened to her before, it’d just been her uncle instead.

“Harry, I really just need a minute.”

“You sound unsure, but your legs are still wrapped around me.”

“I just want a _minute_. Geez.”

“I can last longer than that, come on, MJ.”

Her heart rate was getting faster and faster.

I was pissed, too. Harry was taking advantage of her, knowing she was drunk. I thought he was better than that.

“No, Harry, I…I changed my mind. I don’t wanna do this.”

“Why? Are you scared?” His voice had that mocking, daring tone to it. Like he was trying to trick her into sleeping with him.

“No, I just…we’re both drunk and-”

_She sounds so scared._

“So let’s just be reckless for a bit. And then you can go back to Michelle Jones, captain of the decathlon team.”

“I don’t wanna-”

That’s it. I pushed the door open, probably breaking the lock when I did. MJ was sitting on his dresser, her dress hiked up past her butt. Harry turned and looked at me.

I glared.

“She said no, Osborn.”

“Peter, this is really none of your business,” Harry snapped.

“Really? That’s the card you’re gonna play? After the conversation we had, what, fifteen minutes ago? Maybe twenty?”

“I’m sorry, what conversation-”

Harry cut her off. “I am trying to help you, Parker.”

“How is this helping? You being a rapey douchebag isn’t helping anybody.”

“Don’t throw that word around-”

“MJ is drunk,” I snapped. “Not to mention, she said no. That’s the definition of rape.”

Harry scoffed. “You’re drunk, too. You’re clearly hearing things. It’s creepy that you’d listen through the wall, anyways. MJ, tell him.”

MJ glared at him. “I’m really fucking thankful he followed us up here, you absolute fuckwad.”

She jumped down from the dresser and brushed past him. He grabbed her wrist, trying to stop her, and she slapped him with her other hand.

“Don’t ever talk to me again, Osborn.”

She walked past me, out of the room.

I stared at Harry. “Seriously? I told you how I felt, and you immediately tried to sleep with her?”

“She came to me-”

“I don’t care. Lose my number. Happy New Year.”

I walked out, and jogged down the hall to catch up with MJ.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Can we get out of here?” she asked. “Please?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll text Happy.”

_MJ_

We ended up sitting outside, on Harry’s front steps, waiting for Happy.

“That was the stupidest way to end the year,” I groaned. “I don’t even know why I did that.”

“You thought you could trust him?” Peter suggested.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

It was silent for a minute.

“I know you just said you don’t know why, but…why?”

I scoffed. “I don’t know. I wanted-” _to get over you_ , “-to be normal, I guess.”

“Normal?”

“Half the girls our age don’t have a problem hooking up with guys they don’t know. I’ve known Harry since middle school and I still couldn’t follow through.”

I’d been looking out at the street, but I realized Peter was staring at me. I looked at him.

“What?”

“It’s just- it’s understandable that you didn’t feel right sleeping with him. I’m surprised you feel comfortable with me.”

“Yeah, well, you pinky promised you’d never hurt me.”

“Now who’s the dork?”

I ruffled his hair. “Still you.”

Happy pulled up, so Peter and I went and got in the car.

“The party was that bad?” Happy asked. “It’s not even eleven.”

Peter glanced at me. “I guess we just realized we’d prefer something quieter.”

\---

When we got back to our building, Peter took me up to the roof. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was scared of heights, so I sat up there next to him, our legs dangling over the city.

I was shaking, partially because it was almost-January in New York, partially because I was terrified of heights.

“You’re cold,” Peter said. “Here.”

He took off his hoodie and draped it around my shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

It was quiet for a few minutes, apart from the sounds of New York on New Years Eve. If I forgot about how easily I could fall twenty stories, it was kind of nice. Peaceful.

“Hey, I’m-I’m sorry about Harry today.” Peter gave me a sympathetic look.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I saw you two go up together, and you didn’t look comfortable.”

I smiled at him. “It’s still not your fault. You’re not responsible for me.”

“I still feel kind of guilty.”

“Don’t. I’m just glad you came in when you did.” I paused. “Can I ask why you were listening?”

He hesitated. “Like I said, you looked uncomfortable going upstairs. And, I mean, I know you’ve been…hurt before. I was worried about you.”

“That’s sweet.”

He smiled. His eyes were sparkly. Maybe I’d had too much to drink, or maybe it was the lights from down below, but, god, his eyes were beautiful.

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his hoodie. I took it out and handed it to him.

“That was my midnight alarm. Happy New Year, Em.”

“Happy New Year,” I told him.


	15. i don't want this time to pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait between chapters, i've been falling behind in school so I was racing to catch up oops

_MJ_

Peter and I were making use of our last few days of winter break by sitting on his couch, making out. It was nice and slow, the apartment filled with soft sighs and quiet moans, neither of us rushing to undress the other.

Peter’s phone started buzzing on the coffee table. I pulled away for a second.

“It’s probably not important,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to mine again.

The phone kept buzzing, and I had a nagging feeling about it. I pulled away and handed him his phone. He looked at the screen.

“Why would- oh, shit.”

He answered the phone, looking worried. I fidgeted next to him, my stomach sinking as his face fell.

“Yeah, speaking.” He listened to whoever was speaking on the other line. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be right there. Thanks.”

He hung up, standing up and grabbing his red jacket. “May got in a car crash.”

I jumped up, grabbing my coat and following him out the door, pulling my keys out of my pocket.

“I’m driving.”

“MJ, I can-”

“Who’s car do you think May was in?”

Peter sighed. “Fair point.”

We went downstairs and got in my car. His hands shook as he buckled his seat belt.

“Hey,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s gonna be okay.”

He gave me this pleading, heartbroken look. “I hope so.”

I backed out of my spot, and got on the road.

“I can’t lose her,” Peter said softly. “I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

He was quiet the rest of the drive to the hospital, staring out the window. His shoulders were shaking, and I could see his face in the reflection of the window. His cheeks were wet and his eyes and nose were red.

It broke my heart.

_Peter_

When we got to the hospital, I ran to the desk.

“Hi, I’m Peter P-Parker. My aunt was checked in earlier. May Parker.”

The receptionist typed on her laptop. “Eighth floor, surgery waiting room.”

“Thank you.”

Without really thinking, I took MJ’s hand, and we ran to an elevator. I only let go of her hand to press the button for the eighth floor.

“Peter, you’re panicking.”

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“You’re barely breathing. Just take some deep breaths.”

I tried to, but my eyes just teared up. I wiped at my face with my sleeve.

MJ put her hands on my shoulders and turned me to face her. “Did they say how bad it is?”

“No.”

“Well, we know she’s not in the ICU. That means she’s probably stable.”

I sighed, looking at her. “What would I do without you?”

She offered me a small smile. “Spiral, probably.”

The elevator doors opened. I went to the desk outside the waiting room.

“I’m Peter Parker, I’m waiting for my aunt, May Parker.”

“She’ll be in surgery for another hour or so. Sit tight, okay?”

“Thanks.”

I went and sat down, but MJ stayed at the desk for a minute. I was too busy staring at a poster on the wall about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome to pay attention to what she was doing. She came back over a minute later and handed me a mini chocolate bar.

“I told the receptionist how panicked you were.”

I smiled. “Thanks, MJ.” I tore open the wrapping. “Do you want half of it?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

I popped the whole thing in my mouth and chewed. It made me feel a little bit better. The sinking feeling in my stomach lessened.

“How you feeling?”

“Terrible.”

“Why?”

_Because this is my job. I’m supposed to save people from shit like this, and instead I was making out with a girl on my couch._

“Because she’s like my mom.”

She slipped her hand into mine and squeezed. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

I let my head rest on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

_MJ_

For a while, he didn’t speak. There were silent tears falling from his face onto my sleeve, but then those stopped, and I realized he was asleep.

It was good. He’d spent an hour panicking. He needed the rest.

It left me to think about how scared I was. Even though May and I hadn’t interacted much in the last couple years, she was like a mom by extension. In middle school, she’d brought dinner up for me when my dad left town for too long and there weren’t enough groceries for me. I don’t think she ever told Peter. I don’t even know how she really knew, if a teacher had figured it out and told her, or if I’d done something to tip her off.

And now, I was watching Peter unravel at the thought of her being…not okay. If she wasn’t okay, I didn’t know that Peter would be able to recover. All I’d lost was my mom, and I still missed her now, eleven years later. He’d lost both of his parents and his uncle. If he lost May, all he’d have is his mentor.

As close as he was to Tony Stark, that wasn’t a family I could see him relying on.

A man came in holding a baby, who was maybe a year, year and a half old. She was resting on his hip, head on his shoulder, sleeping.

He caught me watching them, and gave me a small smile.

“Your shoulder numb yet?”

I glanced at Peter. “Not quite yet. Give it ten minutes.”

He chuckled a little, and it woke up his baby. She started crying.

“Oh, shhh, it’s okay, Penny.” He bounced her, but it didn’t calm her down.

Peter woke up, sitting up, taking his hand out of mine to rub his eyes.

“Sorry,” the man said, “I didn’t mean for her to wake up.”

“It’s okay,” Peter grumbled. He looked super groggy.

“I want mommy,” Penny whined, still crying into her dad’s shoulder.

“I know, baby, but you’re stuck with me.”

Peter stood up. “Do you mind if I? I’m good with kids.”

The man laughed tiredly. “Sure. I’m just the uncle, I don’t know what I’m doing in the slightest.”

He handed Penny off to Peter, and she cried harder at first, but then Peter came and sat down next to me, bouncing her in his lap.

“You miss your mommy, huh?”

She nodded, still crying a little.

“Yeah, I miss mine, too. Do you wanna play a game while we wait?”

She nodded again.

Peter started playing with her, smiling a little. It seemed to get him out of his head a bit.

Penny’s uncle came and sat down with me. “You scared of kids, too?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Her mom’s in surgery because she was shot by her ex-boyfriend.”

“His aunt who’s basically his mom is in surgery because of a car crash.”

The uncle sighed. “Nobody’s lucky day, is it?”

“We will be as long as they make it out okay.”

He smiled a little. “Yeah, I hope we’re that lucky.”

\---

An hour and a half later, the uncle was told his sister was out of surgery, and they could go visit her. Peter waved at Penny as her uncle picked her up and took her out of the waiting room.

Once she was gone, he sagged.

“Peter,” I said, “she’s gonna be okay.”

“She was supposed to be out of surgery half an hour ago. They came in after us and they’re already seeing her mom.”

“A single bullet wound is probably a simpler surgery than multiple wounds from a car crash. They’re just taking their time, making sure there are no complications.”

He looked at me. “What if there are complications? What if they lost her and had to resuscitate her-”

“Stop spiraling.”

Letting out a breath, he slouched in his seat. “I’m scared.”

“I know. Me too.”

_Peter_

After half an hour of comfortable silence, a nurse came in.

“May Parker’s family?” she asked.

MJ and I stood up.

“Follow me.”

The nurse led us down the hall to a private room, and told us to be quiet, since May was still sleeping.

May was pale. That was the first thing I noticed. She had to have lost a lot of blood, because she prided herself on her Italian colouring and it just…wasn’t there.

I pulled a chair closer to her bed and held her hand in both of mine.

“Hey. You probably can’t hear me, but on the off-chance you can…please stay. I know it’s hard, because you miss Ben, but you’re the only family I have left. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I can’t lose Mom and Dad and Ben _and_ you. That’s not fair. You know that’s not fair. And it’s not fair to ask you to stay for me when I’m the one who couldn’t- who couldn’t save Ben, but please. _Please_.”

I broke down crying, resting my forehead against our hands. MJ reached over, running a hand up and down my back.

“I love you,” I whispered, and it was meant for both May and MJ.

MJ didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and untangled my hand from May’s, pulling me into a hug. I cried into her shoulder.

“Sorry for crying all over you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s just a shirt.”

_MJ_

He cried into my shoulder for a few minutes, and then put his head in my lap.

I wanted so badly to believe that his little “I love you” had been meant for me, but he’d said it to May.

I wanted so badly to tell him I loved him, but I knew he didn’t love me back, so it’d just stress him out. He didn’t need that right now.

I was absentmindedly playing with his hair, and it put him to sleep again after a few minutes. His breathing slowed, tears stopped falling onto my legs, and his muscles relaxed.

May stirred a little, her eyebrows pulling together, and relaxing again.

Maybe the anesthesia from surgery was starting to wear off.

Peter stirred a little, too, turning his head into my lap and groaning a little.

Why do you have to be so cute? It’s a dick move, Peter.

“MJ?”

I looked up. May’s eyes were half-open.

“Hi.”

“I was in a car crash,” she said softly.

“Do you want me to call the doctor in or a nurse or-”

She shook her head. “No, I think I can piece it together. I want a minute.”

“Okay.”

“How’s he doing?” she asked, looking at Peter and then back to me.

“Not great,” I admitted.

May nodded. “Let him sleep for a bit, then.”

There were a few minutes of silence. I was uncomfortable, not because I was alone with May, but because I absolutely hated hospitals. They always smelled like bleach, and it made me feel six-years-old again.

“Are you okay?” May asked. “You look upset.”

I shook my head, waving her off a little. “I don’t like hospitals.”

She nodded. “Reminds you of your mom, right?”

I frowned. “How-”

“Peter told me about her. What happened. I’m sorry, MJ.”

Despite myself, I shrugged a little. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I know. But you’re still sorry about me, and there’s nothing you could’ve done, either.”

“I never told you I’m sorry,” I teased.

She laughed lightly, and so did I, and that seemed to wake Peter up. He stirred, shifting in my lap, and then sat up abruptly.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah, I-”

He practically launched himself at her, hugging her tight enough that I was worried. She was fresh out of surgery and definitely weaker than usual, but she just hugged him back, kissing his head.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. I’d never leave you, Peter.”

His shoulders started to shake, and I heard a couple of muffled sobs.

“When you’re allowed home, can-can you make meatloaf?”

“You hate my meatloaf,” May chuckled.

“I know.”

\---

May held him until he fell asleep. He was laying on top of her, head buried in her shoulder. May still had her arms around him, stroking his back and his hair.

“He’s a strong kid, but he’s still a kid, you know?” May said.

I nodded.

She gave me a look I couldn’t read. “He’s fragile in a lot of ways, seen a lot of things.”

“Yeah, he, um, he told me about his uncle.”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Be careful with him. He cares about you a lot. Don’t hurt him.”

I looked down, my cuticles suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. “Trust me, May, I would never hurt him. I-I love him too much.”

When I looked up, she didn’t look surprised. “Have you told him how you feel?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“You should. At least that way, you’re not lying to him or keeping secrets.”

_He already knows more about me than almost anybody else. I can’t burden him with more of it. Besides, this is the one secret I have to keep._

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I whispered.

“Why not?”

I took a deep breath. “When you were still unconscious, he was telling you about how he can’t lose you. And all I could do was look at him and think about how I can’t lose him. And if I tell him I’m in- that I’m in love with him,” I said, “I run the risk of losing the one friend I can trust.”

“Think about it, okay? I know it’s scary, but I don’t think you’d lose him.”

I pressed my lips together. “I’m surprised he’s stuck around as long as he has.”

“I’m not,” she said quietly. “You’re up there with Ned on the list of people he cares about, and probably up there with Mr. Stark on the list of people he admires.”

I smiled a little. “Yeah, well, it’s mutual.”

It fell silent again, and Peter woke up a few minutes later.

“Hey, honey, I love you, but do you mind getting off of me so I can give MJ a hug?”

Peter got up, rubbing his eyes as he did. “She’s all yours,” he teased, giving me a lopsided smile.

I went and leaned over the bed, giving May a tight hug.

“You’ll always have me, okay?” May whispered.

All I could think of was Peter. _“You know you have me, right?”_

“I can live with that.” I stood up again. “Can I call a nurse in to talk to you, now?”

May smiled. “Okay.”

_Peter_

May spent another two days in hospital, and was released the day before school started again. She was given strict instructions to take it easy, and I was struggling to keep up with cleaning and cooking on my own on the first day. I texted MJ between chores.

_Me: how is anybody a caretaker_

_Me: this is so much work_

_Me: I thought this apartment was small but now it’s too big and there’s too much to do_

_MJ: want me to come downstairs and help with dinner?_

_Me: pretty please?_

_MJ: be down in five_

She waltzed through the front door a couple minutes later. May was sitting on the couch, and immediately greeted her warmly, and MJ went around the couch to hug her and quickly check up on her. She joined me in the kitchen as I was cleaning the stove.

“Oh, yeah, you’re clearly struggling,” she teased, ruffling my hair. “Alright, what am I making for dinner?”

“I, um, bought some pasta sauce from the grocery store, and there’s penne in the pantry.”

She sighed. “I’m cooking from scratch tomorrow,” she grumbled, going to the pantry. She came back with the box of pasta and watched me clean the stove for a second.

“What?”

“You know that I…need that, right?”

“Give me a second.”

She grinned. “I know. Where do you keep your pots?”

I scowled playfully and pointed to a drawer. She went and grabbed a pot and filled it with water.

“Well now I just feel like I’m holding you back,” I said, still scrubbing at the stove.

She shrugged. “The longer you take, the longer I can relax.” She hopped up on the counter next to the stove, giving me that cocky smile.

“You’re the worst,” I grumbled.

“I can go back upstairs, if you’d like.”              

I pouted at her. “Don’t do that.”

She laughed lightly. It was the prettiest sound in the world.

I finished scrubbing the stove and stepped back. “I gotta clean the bathroom, can you yell at me when dinner’s done?”

“Sure.”

_MJ_

As I was standing at the stove, stirring the pasta, May came over.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Stretching my legs is good for me,” she protested. “Stops me from getting blood clots. Are you staying over tonight?”

“I can just go back upstairs.” I shrugged, still stirring.

“Well, Peter has bunk beds, so you’re free to stay over if you’d like to.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

She leaned against the counter. “Might be a good opportunity for one of those late night talks where the truth comes out.”

“I’m not telling him,” I said softly. “I can’t.”

“You’re not gonna lose him, and you’re certainly not going to lose me.”

I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Gently, she reached over and pulled the wooden spoon out of my hand, putting it on the counter. She pulled me into a hug.

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll stop pushing you.”

All I wanted to do was cry. But I couldn’t do that. May had enough to worry about without me crying over something this stupid.

I let myself sink into it for a few moments before pulling away.

“Go sit down. I can handle the pasta,” I assured her quietly. “Do you want me to make you tea or something?”

“No, I’m okay, MJ. Thanks for helping out tonight.”

She smiled, and squeezed my hand before going back to the living room.

I finished the pasta, mixed in the sauce, and then went to the bathroom. Peter was in the shower, spraying it down and scrubbing it clean.

“Hey, pasta’s done.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he told me, giving me a small smile. “Just gotta finish cleaning the shower.”

“Do you need any help in here?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thanks, Em.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

I left the bathroom, and started looking for stuff to set the table with.

“MJ, we’ll just eat in front of the TV,” May said, looking at me over the back of the couch.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s a bad habit, I know, but I’m making an executive decision and saying it’s okay for tonight.”

I smiled at her. “Got it. Do you need a glass of water?”

“It’s probably not a bad idea to stay hydrated. Thank you, MJ.”

“Of course.”

I got her a glass of water, and she smiled, silently thanking me. I went back to the kitchen and scooped pasta into three bowls, carrying the three into the living room, giving one to May, setting one down on the coffee table, and keeping one for myself.

Peter came out of the bathroom as I was making myself comfortable.

“Scoot over,” he said, “I wanna sit in the middle.”

I laughed a little, lifting my bowl to shield my face when I did. I shifted over, and Peter sat down between May and I. He grabbed his bowl off of the table while May turned on the TV. We discussed which movie to watch between mouthfuls of pasta.

“This is really good,” Peter said softly, leaning towards me a little.

“All I did was cook the pasta and add the sauce.”

“Yeah, well, somehow you do it better than I do.”

He turned to the TV as May hit play on the movie. I was left staring into my pasta, trying not to smile.

The butterflies he gave me were interfering with my appetite.

_Peter_

We went back to school the next day, and while the beginning of a new semester is great, it was boring. Every class was a course outline, “this is how much your final is worth”, and a reminder from teachers that you’re not allowed to have your phone in class.

Flash undermined every single one of them by texting the decathlon group chat bad memes during that speech.

But the school day was worth it, knowing MJ was coming over again and making dinner while I cleaned up and just…spending time with us.

She came over in the evening, grocery bags in arms.

May stood up from the couch. “MJ, you didn’t have to-”

“It’s okay, I was in the mood to cook.”

“We have-”

“I took a bit of inventory yesterday,” MJ assured her. “Don’t worry about it, I get a grocery allowance when my dad’s away.”

“You can’t use your grocery allowance on us-”

“I can if I’m eating, too,” MJ countered. “It’s fine, May, I promise. This wasn’t half of my allowance, and my fridge is still full.”

May sighed a little. “Okay.”

I started to help MJ with the groceries, pulling them out of bags and putting them into the pantry or the fridge.

As she was pulling some vegetables out of the bag, her sleeve was pushed up, revealing finger-shaped bruises.

“Hey.” I put a hand on her arm, gently stopping her.

“Oh.” She went to pull her sleeve down, but again, I stopped her, pulling her arm towards me a little and examining her bruises. They were that reddish-purple of bruises that are a couple of days old.

“What happened?”

“It was the other day. My dad called me and told me to go see my uncle.”

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” She pulled her arm back and pulled her sleeve back down. “Promise.”

“You don’t need me to beat anybody up?” I asked, teasing her just a little. I knew she wasn’t going to talk about it any more than she already had, anyways.

She chuckled, looking away when she did. “As much as I think that’d be hilarious to watch, he’d break you in half.” She went back to unpacking groceries.

I gawked. “You’re saying it’d be funny to watch me get snapped in half?”

She laughed harder. “Yeah, kind of.”

I crossed my arms, feigning indignance. “I’m not helping you anymore, then.”

She playfully shoved my shoulder. “Now I see why Flash calls you Penis Parker.”

“Are you calling me a dick?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“You suck,” I pouted.

“Anytime you want,” she shot back, keeping her voice down and eyeing May.

I felt my cheeks warm, despite myself, which only made her giggle.

“You wanna help me with dinner?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

She walked me through some of the steps, and we stood side by side at the stove, her sautéing vegetables, me cooking some chicken. She was humming to herself as she pushed vegetables around on the pan, and swaying lightly. I could tell she’d showered at her place because she smelled like almonds and honey again, rather than…Midtown.

I set the table while she arranged the food on some plates, and then the three of us sat down to eat. May kept complimenting her on the food, and she’d look at me and tell May I deserved some of the credit, and then I’d deflect it back onto her.

After all, all I’d done was follow her instructions.

After dinner, May pulled MJ over to the couch while I cleaned up the table. I could see MJ itching to help, but May insisted on her picking a movie tonight, so she was stuck in the living room.

When I finished cleaning up, I joined them in the living room, sitting down between May and MJ, and May hit play on the movie.

Within twenty minutes, MJ was yawning, leaning against the arm of the couch. She pulled her legs up onto the couch, curling them up underneath her. She kept shifting, trying to get comfortable.

“Here,” I murmured, gently pulling her legs towards me. She took the hint, stretching her legs out, draping them over mine.

“You sure you don’t mind?” she asked. Her voice had that sleepy quality, and her eyelids looked heavy.

“I’m sure.”

She settled in again, clearly more comfortable. I half-paid attention to the movie, half-listened to her. Her heartbeat slowed, as did her breathing, until she was fast asleep.

“I’m gonna put her to bed,” I whispered to May.

“Do you want me to pause the movie?”

“I’ve seen it before,” I assured her. “You can keep watching without me.”

I pulled MJ into my arms, one arm under her knees, one arm under her back, and stood up, careful to keep my balance. She frowned a little in her sleep, and I was scared she was going to wake up, but then her face relaxed again.

I carried her into my room, kicked back the covers on the bottom bunk, and gently laid her down. She immediately turned onto her side, making adorable soft noises. I pulled the covers up over her, and she seemed to relax a little.

As quietly as I could, I left the room, closing the door most of the way behind me.

“She’s asleep?” May asked.

I went into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. “Mhm.”

“She’s a really sweet kid. And it’s obvious how much she cares about you.”

I didn’t really know what to say. I knew she cared, at least a little. But May said it like it was more than that.

“Anyways, I’m gonna get some rest. You should, too, honey.”

“Goodnight.”

She came over to me and kissed my forehead. “Goodnight, Peter.”

I leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping at my water and staring at the wall.

Sometimes it felt like the MJ I saw at school and the MJ I saw in private were different people. At school, every thought and emotion was hidden behind a stone cold façade, complete with glares that leveled you on the spot and offhand remarks that were amazingly witty. Here, though, she was sweet and caring, smiling and teasing and humming when she cooked.

I let my mind wander a little, letting myself fantasize about an apartment, years from now, walls plastered with her art and air filled with the smell of spices and the sound of her humming.

At the moment, I didn’t care about the big things. I didn’t care about university or jobs or any of it. I cared about the little things. Being able to kiss her casually, on her forehead or temple or cheek. Soft morning or goodnight kisses. Sliding my arms around her when she cooked, resting my chin on her shoulder. Having her legs draped over me when we watched movies. Date nights. Going out to restaurants or cafes or movie theatres. Knowing each other’s orders, wanting to see the same movies.

My whole chest ached, because it could never happen. She’d never feel the same way about me. Even if she did, it was too much to ask of her. I saw how difficult it could be for Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark. I couldn’t do that to MJ, not when she already had so much to worry about.

The fantasy shifted. I imagined having to leave dinner to stop a burglary, coming home late with a black eye and a broken nose, or her getting a call to see me in the hospital.

Getting that call to see May terrified me. I’d felt my whole body go cold. I didn’t want to put MJ through any of that. I didn’t want her sitting next to my bed, staring at my bloodied face, crying.

As much as it killed me that she didn’t love me the same way I loved her, as least it wouldn’t kill her.

I finished my water, went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, then crept into my bedroom.

MJ was awake, a few of her clothes folded up on top of my dresser, laying in bed in her t-shirt and underwear.

“You’re up.”

“Yeah, jeans will do that to you.”

“Sorry, I thought it’d be creepy to undress you while you were asleep.”

She chuckled softly. “It’s okay. Sorry I fell asleep during the movie.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

MJ laid back down, facing away from me. I changed, and then went for the ladder to climb up onto the top bunk.

“You can lay down with me,” MJ whispered.

I froze, staring at her.

“I’m kinda cold, anyways.”

I was about to offer her a pair of my sweatpants, but she was literally offering cuddles, and that sounded like heaven.

I crawled in next to her, spooning her, and she shifted, pushing her whole body back into me.

Now that I had my whole face buried in my hair, the scent of honey was strong, in a way that would’ve made my knees weak if I were standing.

“Em?”

“Yeah?” Her voice had that sleepy quality again, the kind that made me want to kiss her so badly.

“You warm enough?”

“Mhm. Thanks, dork.”

“Anytime.”

I tightened my arms around her, like I was trying to protect her from something. She hummed a little, and then drifted off.

\---

The next day at school, we were sitting in class, our teacher clicking through an amazingly boring slideshow, when the phone on his desk rang. He stopped talking, going over and answering the phone. He spoke quietly into it for a moment, and then hung up.

“Mr. Parker, Mrs. Packard wants to see you in the office.”

A sharp pang of panic shot through my chest. Had they found something in my locker? Was my identity compromised? Had I done something wrong?

Mrs. Packard was the one assistant principal with a psych degree, which meant she functioned as a guidance counsellor, too. Was Ned worried about me? Had I made one too many “if I’m dead I don’t have to write exams” jokes?

“Yeah, okay.”

I got up, and felt everyone’s eyes on me as I left the classroom.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I stepped out into the hallway.

_MJ: what’d you do this time?_

_MJ: something scandalous?_

_MJ: no gun in your pocket, I hope_

_Me: what? no!_

_MJ: so you were just excited to see me?_

I sighed. There was quick, witty MJ.

_Me: we would’ve been late to school_

_MJ: touché_

_Me: I don’t think I did anything_

_MJ: well good luck then_

_MJ: lemme know what juvie’s like_

_Me: haha. funny._

Despite my tone in the last text, I had the biggest smile on my face.

I got to the office, shoving my phone into my pocket, and went to the front desk.

“Hey, um, Mrs. Packard wanted to talk to me?”

“Down that way, third door on the left,” Mrs. Long said with a smile.

The smile didn’t ease my anxiety.

I went down to Mrs. Packard’s door, and knocked on the frame. She glanced over.

“Mr. Parker, come in. Take a seat. Close the door behind you.”

_Uh oh. Closed-door meeting._

Following her instructions, I closed the door and sat down across the desk from her. She pulled out a notebook and a pen, and gave me a small smile.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Your aunt has, um, expressed some concern about a classmate of yours.”

_Oh, this is so much worse. Maybe I can derail this by telling her I’m Spider-Man._

“What do you mean?”

“How much do you know about Michelle Jones and her home life?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet i know that's a cliff hanger but i likely won't get the next chapter up for a week, i've got two units to teach myself in one class, a big ass project due in another, and Designated Friend Time coming up


	16. tell me something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! i promise i didn't abandon this fic!!!!! just having a hectic ass time!!!!!!!! had some auditions, graduating in a few days, getting a new car, dealing with some family drama, studying like hell ahhhhhhhh but finally managed to find time to finish and edit this chapter (with the help of a dear friend)

_MJ_

Peter walked back into class looking a little less like himself. His nose was pink, and he had his hands shoved deep in his pocket.

Before I could ask him what had happened, the phone rang again.

I had this sinking feeling in my stomach, and I was already standing when the teacher said, “Miss Jones? Mrs. Packard wants to speak with you.”

I glanced at Peter, but he wouldn’t look at me. I left the classroom.

When I was halfway to the office, my phone buzzed.

_Peter: I’m sorry_

That didn’t ease my anxiety at all.

I got to the office, and went up to Mrs. Long.

“Hey, I was called down by Mrs. Packard?”

“Down that way, third door on the left,” she told me kindly.

I went down that way, and knocked on the open door.

“Miss Jones, come on in. Close the door, take a seat.”

I closed the door behind myself, and took the seat across the desk from Mrs. Packard.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong. Mr. Parker’s aunt noticed a few things that she wanted to be sure we knew about so we could support you,” she said.

_No, no no no no no no no no-_

“I spoke to Mr. Parker, and he said he’d picked up on a couple things as well, but I suspect he didn’t tell me everything that he knew.”

“He doesn’t- I haven’t told him much.”

“Can you tell me what you’ve told him?” she asked gently.

I hesitated. The last thing I needed was a CPS investigation and to be shoved into the foster care system. Things weren’t bad the way they were, right? I had a nice car, and a nice apartment that was pretty much my own, and a healthy allowance.

“I can’t,” I told her.

“Miss Jones, anything you say in this room in confidential unless I believe you’re a harm to others or yourself. If you’re being hurt, but you don’t want me to interfere in your situation, I can’t do anything. I need your consent to press charges.”

“What do you know?” I asked.

She took a breath. “Well, I know that Mrs. Parker saw a bruise on your arm yesterday, and she knew you’d visited your uncle, so she was concerned that he’d hurt you. Mr. Parker also spoke to her about some of his concerns.”

I pressed my lips together. How did I explain that away?

“I also asked a few of your teachers if they’d noticed anything concerning, and Miss Jenkins mentioned that you haven’t turned in any artwork in a while.”

Right. I’d stopped handing in artwork when I stopped making any.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Mrs. Packard held out her hand. “May I see your arm, please?”

Oh, shit. Should’ve covered the bruise with makeup today.

I held out my arm, pulling up my sleeve a little.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Glancing down and pulling my arm back, I said, “Everyone gets hit by their parents sometimes. That’s just how it works.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“But my dad always says it’s because he wants me to do well. Black women aren’t allowed mistakes in life, so I have to be perfect now so I’m prepared for that.” The words sounded stupid coming out of my mouth, and I felt so small.

\---

I was in her office for the rest of the day. I admitted to her that I was scared of my dad, that I had unhealthy habits because of him. I told her about the bottle of whiskey hidden in my bedroom and the scars that littered my body. She made me sign a mini-contract, agreeing to take care of myself and see her at least once a week.

When I walked out of the office, half an hour after the last bell, Peter was standing there, carrying my stuff and his.

“I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” I assured him, taking my backpack and books from him. “It was fine.” I started to head towards my locker.

“You were in there all day,” he said, following me.

“Yeah.”

“What did you talk about? Is everything okay? Is she going to do anything?”

“Everything’s fine, Peter, don’t worry. We just talked about my dad and why I stopped drawing and stuff and-”

“You stopped drawing?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“MJ, why would you stop?”

“It’s not like I’m any good at it, anyways. It was a distraction, I guess, and my dad was on my ass about marks and-”

“That doesn’t mean you stop,” Peter insisted. “You’re an amazing artist, MJ.”

I kept my mouth shut, scared to argue. It was stupid. Peter was safe. But I was coming off of a full day of spilling my fears to Mrs. Packard, so anxiety was at a high.

I opened my locker, dumping a few books in. Peter reached in and pulled out my sketchbook.

“Hey!!”

He hopped away from me, and my heart dropped. He couldn’t open that.

“Peter-”

He flipped open the cover, and I dropped my stuff and launched myself at him. He held the sketchbook above his head, standing on his tippy-toes to try to keep it out of my reach.

I jumped, grabbing the sketchbook, but knocking into him. His arm wrapped around my waist, tightly, and we both fell against the lockers. I held up my arm, bracing myself as we hit the lockers, and winced as bruised skin hit metal.

“Ow,” I mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked. I flinched away.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I went back to my locker, shoving my sketchbook into my backpack.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t.” It came out a little sharper than I intended. “Let’s just go home.”

“You don’t have to drive me-”

I zipped up my backpack and slammed the locker shut. He visibly winced. “Let’s just go,” I repeated.

He followed me out to the car, uncharacteristically quiet. He stayed that quiet the whole way home, and in the elevator on the way upstairs.

When the elevator dinged on his floor, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Am I not coming over to help with dinner again today?” I asked.

“I didn’t think you’d want to. Six?”

I nodded, just as the doors were closing.

_Peter_

MJ came over with bags of take-out, and was wearing a different outfit. She wasn’t wearing the long, floral dress and the baggy sweater than she had been at school. Instead, she had changed into a long-sleeved shirt and a…familiar pair of sweatpants.

They were mine.

“Okay, I got Thai food,” she said, bringing the bags in and setting them on the table.

“How much was it?” May asked, grabbing her purse.

MJ glanced at me, and then lied through her teeth. “I had a voucher, so it was free.”

May sighed. “MJ, you’re not buying dinner for us, you’re a kid.”

“I didn’t have to pay a cent,” MJ insisted, pulling a box out of a bag and handing it to her.

“Now I see why you two get along so well,” May grumbled, taking the box. I helpfully handed her a pair of chopsticks, and she narrowed her eyes at me before sitting down.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said to MJ, keeping my voice down.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I overreacted. It’s just…”

“Long day?”

“Yeah.” She handed me a box and a pair of chopsticks. “Long day.”

The three of us sat down in the living room, eating take-out and watching TV.

It was a nice routine.

MJ finished eating and put her empty box on the coffee table, then sat down on the floor, back against the couch, head resting against my knee.

May glanced between us and gave me a small smile, then stood up, stretching dramatically.

“Well, I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”

“It’s eight thirty,” MJ said, frowning.

“I’ve got a book I wanted to read tonight. You kids have fun.”

She shot me a subtle wink before disappearing into her room.

“You wanna go upstairs?” MJ asked.

As tempting as that was, I was really…happy. The weight of her head on my knee was somehow comforting, and I was content just existing like this for a bit.

“After we finish the episode?”

She glanced up, smiling. “Sure.”

I cherished the last twenty minutes of that episode as much as humanly (spiderly?) possible.

But then the episode ended, and she got up, turning off the TV and cleaning up empty take-out boxes.

She bent down to pick up one (1) discarded chopstick wrapper and I was painfully reminded of how long it’d been.

I might’ve used a little bit of spider-speed to help clean up faster, then took her hand and dragged her out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab my key before the door closed behind us.

MJ was giggling as I pulled her into the elevator, hitting the buttons hard enough that I worried a little about breaking them.

Just a little.

MJ pushed me against the wall, pressing her lips against mine as the door closed.

God, I missed this.

I slid my hands around her waist to her back, pressing her against me. She moaned softly, her hands finding their way up my chest and neck to my face.

Her hands were even more velvety and soft than they were the last time.

Going from Boxing Day to the halfway through the second week of January was borderline torture.

The elevator doors opened, and MJ pulled away. I didn’t mean to, but I whined a little.

She smiled, then pulled me, practically running down the hall to her apartment. The second that door was open, she grabbed me by the front of my shirt, spinning me around and pushing me towards her bedroom. She jumped, legs wrapping around my waist, arms sliding around my neck.

I had my hands under her thighs, keeping her steady, and kept us going towards her bedroom. Her lips were against my jaw, effectively killing my brain cells.

I managed to get us into her room, and set her down on the bed. She pulled away from the kiss to pull off her shirt.

It was genuinely, maddeningly unfair that she managed to make that look good. Like she was unwrapping a present.

I was so distracted watching her, that before I knew it, she was leaning forward and pulling my shirt off, tossing it against the opposite wall.

“You okay, Peter? You look a little shell-shocked.”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m good. Just…”

“Moving too fast?”

“Not fast enough,” I mumbled, pushing her back onto the bed and kissing her. Her hands slid around me, landing on my shoulder blades. I propped myself up on one elbow, and used my other hand to pull the drawstring on her, well, my sweatpants. The bow came undone, and I broke the kiss to pull them off of her. I tossed them aside, and when I glanced back, I got a good look at what she was wearing. Matching burgundy underwear. I hesitated, stunned by how good she looked.

“What?” She got self-conscious, arms moving to cover herself up.

Before I could stop myself, I was on top of her again, gently moving her arms away. “You look…hot.”

She laughed a little, nervously, turning her head away. “Sure.”

I thought about trying to convince her, but instead just ducked my head to kiss her neck. She let out a soft, surprised moan. I kissed her neck a few more times, then moved down, peppering her collarbone with soft kisses.

_If I can’t tell her I love her, I might as well show her._

“Peter,” she breathed, her hands sliding around to my back again.

I moved a little further down, kissing along the top of her bra, suckling a little in a couple of spots. She arched her back a little, pushing her chest into my face.

“Impatient much?”

“Don’t try to act all confident now, asshole.”

I laughed a little, looking up at her. She rolled her eyes at me, but she did look amused.

I went back to suckling on her skin, and as she got more excited, she started pushing her hips up to meet mine. Every time, I gently pushed them back down, and she’d whine softly.

“Can you please stop being a fucking tease?” she grumbled, her hands leaving my back to bury themselves in my hair.

“According to a Ted Talk Ned keeps talking about, the wait is sexy,” I shot back.

“The wait has been two weeks.”

I dipped my hand between her legs, feeling her panties, and my fingers were met with damp fabric. She pushed her hips into my hand, and I pulled my hand away before she could get much pressure out of my fingers.

“Peter!”

“Here,” I whispered, reaching under her back and unhooking her bra. “How’s this?” I pulled it off of her, throwing it across the room, and dropped my head to her chest again, taking a nipple in my mouth. She moaned a little, fingers tangling in my hair and pulling slightly.

“Better,” she breathed.

I swirled my tongue around her nipple, waiting until she was pressing her hips into mine to pull away and switch to the other one. She let out the softest disappointed sigh before I started swirling my tongue around the other nipple. Then her fists clenched in my hair, a sign that I was doing something right.

Again, I waited until her hips were pressing into mine, and then pulled away, kissing down her stomach. She tried to push my head, trying to get me between her legs faster, but I pushed back. I started to kiss back up her stomach, and she stopped pushing.

“You’re so rude,” she mumbled.

“I’m not rude, you’re just impatient.”

“And?”

I laughed, and she covered my face with her hand, pushing.

“Dude, I am so close to going into the bathroom and taking care of myself.”

Very briefly, I considered pinning her down by her shoulders or wrists, but then I realized how badly that’d freak her out.

Instead, I opted to slip down between her legs and slowly start to pull her panties down.

“Peter, for the love of god, today’s the day you wanna go slow and steady?”

“Absolutely,” I teased.

“I hate you.”

_Okay, that stings._

“I’ll change your mind.”

I tried not to focus on how weirdly soft her panties were as I pulled them off. Once I’d gotten them off and dropped them to the floor, she pulled me by my hair.

“Are you trying to suffocate me?” I teased.

“Peter, I’m gonna-”

I dipped my head and gave her clit a short lick, and watched her lose her train of thought in a soft moan. I kept going, and she gave another sigh, thighs squeezing a little around my face.

“Much better,” she assured me. “So much better.”

Her hips started to grind into me, so I looped my arms under her legs and pressed down on her hips, stopping her from pushing into me. At the same time, I circled her clit with my tongue, and she moaned louder.

I got into a good rhythm, and her moans got louder and louder, her fingers pulled at my hair harder and harder, and her hips almost started twitching, like she was trying to stop herself from grinding into my face.

“Peter,” she gasped.

I responded with a sharp suckle on her clit. She cried out a little, arching her back. I did it again, and I realized she was coming. I kept going, letting her thighs squeeze around me until I was scared it’d break my skull.

“Peter!”

Her hands were pulling so hard on my hair that I was a little worried she’d start pulling hair out, but that didn’t happen. She started to settle before it could.

I pulled away. “Was it worth it?”

She grabbed a pillow and smacked me with it. “Fuck you.” Her voice was light and breathless.

_Heh. I did that._

“Isn’t that…what we’re doing?”

I got another smack for that one.

“Okay, yeesh. I’ll stop.”

“It is so easy to beat you into submission,” she teased. “Okay, lemme do you.”

I snorted. “We sound like teenage girls doing manicures at a sleepover.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “We can do that later.”

I crawled over her again. “I’ve been told my colour is blue.”

She grinned, arms looping around my neck. “I don’t know, you look pretty good in your red jacket.”

“You wanna paint my nails bright red?”

She nodded, pulling me down and pressing her lips to mine.

Okay, it was my turn to be desperate. I reached for one of her hands, and guided it down to the waistband of my pants. She pushed my pants down, and I found myself moaning against her lips.

“Peter,” she mumbled, and I pulled away a little. “You gotta take ‘em off the rest of the way.”

“Right.”

I got off of her, pulling them and my boxers off. She grabbed a condom out of her nightstand, tossing it to me when my hands were free. I tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom on, only fumbling a little. I got back on top of her, kissing her neck and lining us up.

“Shouldn’t I be doing the work this time?” MJ breathed. “Since you already…did a lot of work?”

I laughed a little. “Is that how it’s supposed to work?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I should be doing more than just laying here.”

I kissed under her ear. “You’ve been helping out a lot with May, I think you’re allowed to just relax.”

She let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, okay, I’ll take it.”

I slowly pushed in, watching her to make sure it wasn’t hurting her. She let out a soft moan.

Okay, I wasn’t hurting her. I could keep going.

I started off slow, and kept that pace for a while, pressing soft kisses over her neck and jawline and shoulder.

“Peter,” she breathed, “faster.”

I picked up the pace a little, and slipped a hand between us to circle her clit, and she let out a moan.

“How’s that?”

“Good,” she sighed blissfully.

Her hands splayed out on my back, nails scratching at me when I was doing something right. Once I’d found a good angle and her nails were pressing into my back consistently, I sped up again.

“Holy _fuck_ , Peter,” she whined, back arching a little, nails digging in harder.

I kissed under her jaw, and she tilted her head back to give me access.

Her legs wrapped around me, tightly, pulling me deeper into her.

“Em,” I breathed.

“ _Peter_.”

I kept going, listening to her moans and paying attention to her nails on my back, trying to gauge how close she was. It was getting to the point where I needed her to finish so I didn’t finish too soon.

_Sex really is not as easy as the movies make it out to be._

My name kept rolling off of her tongue, increasingly desperate. I pressed my finger into her clit harder, and kept thrusting as hard as I could, given my now limited range of motion.

Thankfully, before I got too close, she finished. Her back arched, she cried out my name, and her walls squeezed impossibly tight around me. I kept going, and came soon after, whining her name and dropping my face into her shoulder.

We both settled a little, and I pulled away, taking the condom off and throwing it out. We were both panting, trying to catch our breath.

MJ’s skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, like she was glowing.

We both laid on our backs, breathing hard for a bit.

“So,” she panted, “if I help out with you and May, is that the kind of treatment I get? Because if so, I’ll move in.”

I laughed. “You don’t have to do anything to earn that, MJ. Just ask.”

She turned her head to look at me, grinning. “That’s a dangerous offer, Parker.”

“Probably, but I’m not taking it back.”

We laid there for a couple more minutes, and then she sat up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and clean up a little.”

“Fair enough.”

She got up, grabbed some clothes, and left the room.

The second the door clicked shut behind her, I pulled on my boxers and then went through her desk, trying to find some of her art. I didn’t know what I was going to do exactly, but part of me thought if I could submit it to a contest and she won, it’d be a good way to show her that her art was worth her time.

It was a stupid idea, but I couldn’t help but think that it was better than letting her quit entirely.

I found a few pieces, and turned on her desk light, finding my phone and taking some photos.

I heard her shower turn on, which meant I had about five minutes.

Her art was spread out across her desk, so I took a few more photos, and then put it all away, hopefully in the same place I found it.

I’d barely even looked at what I was taking photos of, but that was fine. I had photos to look at later.

I laid back down in bed, trying to look innocent when she came back in. Her hair was tied up in bun, and she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of soft looking shorts.

“Sorry, I ended up taking a shower because I felt all sweaty.”

I smiled at her. “It’s okay.”

She crawled into bed. “You can go ahead and brush your teeth and stuff.”

“Right. That’s…important.”

She laughed a little at me as I got up. “You can use the shower, too, if you want. There’s clean towels in there.”

“Sounds good.”

_MJ_

I laid there, listening to the sound of running water and Peter’s singing.

Of course he would sing in the shower. Dork.

He came back into my room a few minutes later, hair damp, wearing his boxers.

“You have really nice shampoo,” he said, touching his hair a little.

“Thanks.”

He got into bed next to me, gently pulling me towards him. I snuggled into him, tucking my head between his jaw and his shoulder.

It crossed my mind that at some point, he’d probably get a girlfriend and we wouldn’t do any of this anymore.

I tried to push that thought out of my head, forcing myself to just try to fall asleep.

Unfortunately, the thought snuck into my dreams.

\---

_Peter smiled, big and bright, sneaking up behind her at her locker and surprising her. She turned, and somehow Peter’s smile got bigger before he kissed her._

_And then we were in class, and she was sitting in his lap, arm draped around him. He kept beaming at her, squeezing her tighter. I could hear them telling each other how much they loved each other, and every time I heard it, I wanted to puke._

_Then we were at Ned’s, and it was Ned and Betty and Peter and his girlfriend and I. And, of course, she was super nice and smiley and polite. Ned and Betty clearly loved her. I was on the sidelines, watching from across the room, completely left out._

_I got up to leave, but when I stepped out of Ned’s apartment, I reappeared where I’d been sitting._

_I tried to leave a few more times, reappearing in the living room every time._

_And then Peter and his girlfriend decided to go back home, and he offered me a ride, so I sat in the back of his car while they held hands and talked and smiled at each other._

_Finally, I was alone in my bed, but it was big and cold and the pillows and sheets still smelled like Peter. I swore I could hear him and his girlfriend having sex, despite the two floors that separated Peter and I’s rooms._

_My bedroom door opened, and my dad came in. I sat up in bed, scooting back against the headboard. He sat down on the bed._

_“Nobody loves you, Michelle, you know that. Not Peter, not Ned or Betty, not your teachers, not your classmates, and not me. You’re alone. When are you going to accept that?”_

_I wanted to tell him I wasn’t alone, but then I couldn’t speak. He started yelling at me to answer him, but I couldn’t, and then he raised his hand and slapped me._

\---

I jerked awake.

“Em,” Peter whispered. “Are you okay?”

I sat up, shaking it off. “It was just a bad dream. I’m fine.”

He sat up, too, rubbing my back. “You were crying in your sleep.”

Wiping at my face, I realized he was right. My cheeks were wet.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

What could I tell him? _Hey, I am dreading the day you move on to someone who actually deserves your attention so much that I’ve started having nightmares about it._ I couldn’t just say that to him.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Hot chocolate?”

I didn’t want to ask him to put the effort in, but god, that sounded good.

Maybe I was just easy to read today, but he started to get up. “Yeah, you need hot chocolate.”

“I can make it myself-”

“I’ve got it, Em.”

I followed him into my kitchen, shivering a little in the cool air of the apartment. I stood back, trying to stay out of his way while he cooked.

_I wonder if this is how he’ll hook his girlfriend in. He’ll make her hot chocolate, it’ll make her swoon, and then next thing they know, they’re making out in the middle of the kitchen. It’d work on me._

“MJ?”

I glanced up, only to realize my vision was blurry with tears.

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly. “So I can help?”

Wiping at my eyes and sniffling, I responded, “Trust me, it’s not the type of thing you can help with.”

“Talking about it will help,” he tried to reason.

I shook my head. “I don’t really wanna. It’s okay, I’m fine.”

He abandoned the pot on the stove for a minute and crossed the kitchen to me, pulling me into a tight hug. “You know that you’re, like, my best friend, right? I mean, don’t tell Ned, because he’ll get all jealous, but you are.”

That only made the sting in my nose stronger. “Peter…”

“We don’t have to talk about anything,” he said, “but I’m always here if you want to.”

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me nodding. “Okay.”

He pulled away, smiling softly at me before going back to the stove.

And suddenly I felt a wave of guilt. He was tired, you could see it on his face, in the way he was carrying himself. And I was the selfish bitch making him make me hot chocolate in the wee hours of the morning.

“Peter, you’re exhausted, just let me make it.”

“Why are you so resistant to people taking care of you?” he asked. “You’re exhausted, too, and you’re coming off of a nightmare. I can handle stirring a pot.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

My eyes were filling with tears again. He shouldn’t have to take care of me. He wasn’t family, he wasn’t my boyfriend. He didn’t sign up for this.

“Em-”

Turning away and wiping at my eyes, I muttered, “I’m fine.”

He didn’t push.

When the hot chocolate was ready, we sat down in the living room with our mugs. I curled up on one side of the couch, legs underneath me, taking up as little room as possible.

“So,” Peter said softly, sipping before he continued, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Why don’t you like being taken care of?”

How was I supposed to answer that? I couldn’t tell him that the only person who ever really took care of me was my mom, and she was long gone. I couldn’t tell him that the only person who “took care of me” now was Uncle Antonio, and that was just when my dad was around and he had to be gentle. I couldn’t tell him that it made me uncomfortable because I felt like he was wasting his energy on me.

Because saying any of that would just make him try to take care of me more.

So I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“That’s a cop out.”

I took a sip of my hot chocolate.

“You have no problem taking care of me,” Peter said, “or May. So clearly it’s not that you think people can just…handle themselves.”

The way my hands were wrapped around my mug was increasingly interesting. I kept adjusting my fingers, trying to ignore him in the hopes that he’d drop it.

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you without feeling guilty?”

If I spoke now, my voice would break. I didn’t need to cry in front of him. He’d seen me tear up, but I hadn’t cried in front of him, and I wasn’t starting tonight.

I shrugged, refusing to look up.

He shifted closer. “Em, I just wanna help. Please.” His voice was so soft and gentle, and all I wanted to do was curl up in his arms and cry.

“I don’t wanna be a damsel in distress,” I said softly. My voice shook, but it didn’t break. I swallowed, looking up at him.

He didn’t look surprised.

“Everyone needs a little TLC sometimes, that doesn’t make you a-a damsel in distress.”

“Yeah, but it makes me feel like it. So I’d just rather take care of myself.” I stared back into my mug, at the last little bit of my hot chocolate.

“That’s not sustainable, MJ. Especially not in high school. You’re supposed to be able to trust people to take care of you when you need it.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’ve come this far without anybody else taking care of me. I’ll live.”

He leaned back a little. “But you’re not happy.”

“Why does that matter-”

“Because you deserve to be happy!”

I made the mistake of glancing up at him. His expression was a mix of emotions, some of which I could place and some of which I couldn’t.

“It’s not always about what you deserve, Peter. Donald Trump deserves to rot at the bottom of a pit but he’s president instead. Kids don’t deserve to starve but it happens all the time. It’d be nice if we all got what we deserve but it doesn’t work like that.”

I finished my hot chocolate and stood up, holding out my hand for his empty mug. He sighed, handing it over. I went to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher.

Following me into the kitchen, he said, “Okay, sure, it’s not a fair world, but I still want-”

My nose was stinging, so I sniffled, and Peter stopped.

“Do you want me to just give you a moment alone? Would that be better?”

I shook my head. “I just wanna go back to sleep.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

We went back to my room, and got under the covers of my bed. Peter pulled them tight around us, wrapping his arms around me once he did.

“Are you sure you don’t want a moment alone to just…cry it out?”

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

Our heads were both on my pillow, our noses a hair’s breadth apart. All I wanted to do was kiss him.

It was not a night for self-control. So I did. I leaned in and kissed him, softly and slowly. He tightened his arms around me, humming against my lips.

Maybe this wouldn’t have to advance. Maybe we could just kiss and enjoy it for a couple of minutes. Maybe we could just pretend it never happened tomorrow.

But that wasn’t what happened. He started to roll on top of me, deepening the kiss.

I was going to stop him, tell him that I was too tired to do anything, but then I didn’t want to stop. His hands were slipping under my t-shirt and I was leaning into it, moaning softly to encourage him.

I started to slide my hands down his stomach, but he stopped me, breaking the kiss as he gently pulled my hands away.

“Lemme take care of you,” he breathed.

“Peter-”

“Consider it an exercise in letting yourself be taken care of.”

He kissed me again, hands under my shirt, roaming over my skin.

He really was going to be the death of me.

One hand slipped under my shorts, under my panties, fingers adding light pressure to my clit. His lips left mine, kissing my jawline and then my neck. His fingers were slowly slipping into me.

“Peter,” I whined softly, pressing my hips into his hand as his thumb started to circle my clit lightly. I moaned, pushing my hands into his hair.

“How’s this?” he whispered, lips brushing over my skin. He pushed hard against my g-spot, and I pulled at his hair, letting out a sharp moan. He did it again, getting a similar reaction, and I could feel his lips pulling into a smile.

“Do you need me to answer that?” I was panting a little.

Sounding sheepish, he muttered, “You kinda did.” He kissed my cheek.

_Fuck you, Parker. You don’t have to be so goddamn cute all the time._

He kept going, fingering me and kissing me softly until I came. I was pulling at his hair hard enough that I apologized breathlessly once I settled a bit.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, pulling his hand away. He kissed my temple, lips lingering for a second, and then got out of bed and left the room.

I stared at the ceiling, catching my breath. He came back a moment later, crawling back into bed.

“I’m not allowed to reciprocate?” I asked.

“Nope. You don’t owe me anything.”

I moved closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around me, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Peter.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was a long silence, and then I said, “You know, you’re my best friend, too.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, “I’m flattered.”

“Better be.”

He just squeezed me tighter, and I fell asleep soon after, feeling relaxed and almost happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> id like to preemptively apologize if the next chapter isn't out for a month, i've got my last batch of exams before im done high school so i just gotta power through. but all of july is free for a writing frenzy!!!


	17. way too damn needy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big trigger warning for this chapter. there's a lot of conversation about sexual assault + rape, including mj telling a story about it from when she was v small, so please be careful if that could trigger you and take care of yourself :)  
> it is a shorter chapter than i usually post, but also i graduate this week so i'm honestly just impressed with myself for having time to finish this

****

_Peter_

“Okay, well, not all of us can have healthy, loving relationships,” MJ teased, gently shoving Betty.

“Hey, you could totally pull guys, you just choose not to. Or, you go screw around casually with Brooklyn kids.” Betty raised an eyebrow at MJ.

I took a sip of my drink, trying to stay out of this particular conversation.

“I’m getting more action than you two are,” MJ shot back.

Ned sighed. “Not all of us are lucky enough to have travelling business men for fathers.”

“You’re right, having a dead mom and an absent father is an absolute party.”

Ned swallowed. “I’m gonna- Betty, do you need a refill? I’m gonna get more water…”

Betty held up her glass, and Ned took it, going into my kitchen to refill their glasses.

Betty let out a sigh when he was out of the room. “He’s staying over tonight, and my parents are out of town, and I’m not really in the mood to do anything, but I don’t want to disappoint him, you know?”

MJ nodded. “Yeah, it’s a tricky balance. Sometimes it’s just easier to go with it, and that way it’s not awkward or anything.”

Betty nodded, smiling a little. “Exactly.”

I glanced at MJ, wondering exactly how many times she’d agreed to do stuff with me without really wanting to.

It made me feel sick.

They kept talking about how sometimes it was worth it to just go with it, because it’d end up being fun or whatever, but I kept thinking about all the times MJ and I had had sex and how many of those times she felt like she had to.

“Peter,” Betty said, interrupting my train of thoughts. “You look a little green.”

MJ turned to look at me, and then scooted closer, narrowing her eyes like she was examining me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Em.”

She clearly didn’t believe me. “Here, lemme grab you some crackers and water,” she mumbled, ruffling my hair as she stood up. “That’ll help.”

“Actually, um, is it okay if I kick you guys out? I just…wanna go to bed, I think.”

Ned and MJ shared a concerned look.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Peter?” Ned asked. “You didn’t get hurt because of the internship or anything?”

I shook my head.

Betty stood up, starting to gather her stuff. “Em, do you wanna come back with Ned and I-”

“It’s MJ.”

I imagined I looked as confused as Betty, as she backtracked. “Right. MJ. Sorry. Um, I was thinking we could go see a mov-”

“Actually,” I interrupted, “I was gonna ask MJ to stay back and help me clean up a bit.”

The three of them shared another confused look, but ultimately all nodded. MJ came back over to me, the back of her hand landing on my forehead as she wished Ned and Betty a goodnight.

Once the door was closed, she asked, “Okay, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Do you seriously hook up with me even when you don’t want to?” I asked, pulling away from her hand.

She sighed, grabbing burger wrappers and glasses and starting to clean up. “Yeah.”

“MJ!”

“What? Clearly, I’m not the only girl in the world who-”

“Why can’t you just tell me no?”

She glanced up, pressing her lips together, then refocusing on cleaning. “It’s easier. I don’t know why you’re so upset about this, anyways. You got more sex out of it.”

I swallowed. “I’m upset because it…it feels like I raped you.”

MJ scoffed. “Peter, I consented. And I ended up having fun-”

“Wait. How many times did this even happen? How many times have we done stuff when you didn’t want to?”

She shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Not much. And it was a while ago, anyways.”

I stood up off of the couch. “That-that doesn’t make it better!”

“Why is it such a big deal?” she snapped.

“Because you should be able to say no to me! Otherwise I’m doing something wrong and that makes me-”

“It doesn’t make you anything. And I’ve told you no plenty. It’s just…” She threw out a fistful of garbage, and then stared at me.

“It’s just what?”

“Sometimes, you look really excited, and I hate to say no because I don’t want to let you down.”

“Who cares if you’re letting me down?”

“I do!”

“You shouldn’t! It’s not supposed to be about meeting expectations or-or- I don’t wanna be like your dad, or your uncle-”

“Are you fucking serious?” MJ shouted. “Do you think I would let you anywhere near me if that was how you made me feel at all?”

I hesitated.

“Jesus, Peter, the only reason I let my dad or Antonio push me around is because I know it’s worse if I fight back. If I tell you no, I know you’re not gonna hit me, or else I wouldn’t let you into my apartment, or come to yours, or- is that seriously all you equate me to?”

“Of course not. Is all you equate me to a-a fuckboy who thinks with his dick and doesn’t actually care about you or how you feel or-”

She laughed, bitterly. It stung, too, because it felt like a yes.

“If that’s what I wanted in a fuckbuddy, I’d have gone to Flash,” she spat.

“You made it sound like all I cared about was sex.”

“Why would you need to care about anything else?”

“Because you’re my best friend! And the last thing I wanna do is pressure you or rape you or-”

“God, stop saying that.”

“Do you know how sick that made me feel? I-I wanted to crawl out of my skin and-”

“Do you know how sick it makes _me_ feel?” she shouted. “Do you know how absolutely disgusting it feels? I fucking dread seeing my dad or my uncle, because I know exactly how it feels every single fucking time. It hurts and it’s humiliating and it feels like there’s dirt trapped under your skin and you can’t wash it away. You can scrub and scrub and scrub but it doesn’t go away. I hate that feeling more than anything. And if I ever felt that with you, I’d dread seeing you, too. But I-”

Her phone buzzed on the table, screen lighting up with an email notification. It was enough to distract her, to break her train of thought. Her voice trailed off, as she picked up her phone, swiping to open the notification.

“Congratulations Michelle Jones, you are the winner of the 2019…”

She looked up at me.

“I didn’t enter this competition.”

My throat seemed to close up. I was terrified she’d be mad at me. “I entered for you. I-I wanted to show you that your art is…really good.”

She looked back down at the email. “Please respond so we can send you your five thousand dollar scholarship…”

Her eyes met mine again.

“When did you do this?”

“A couple weeks ago. I just, um, took some photos…while you were in the shower.”

_God, this sounds so creepy and she’s gonna be so mad and-_

And then the air was knocked out of me as she threw herself at me, arms wrapping tightly around me. I hugged her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re not mad?”

“Dude, you won me five grand.”

“You won yourself five grand,” I argued, squeezing her tighter. “I just gave you a little nudge.”

Her body was relaxing against mine, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the hug.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, it’s just…”

“Yeah, I crossed a line. I’m sorry, too.”

_MJ_

We hung out, just the two of us, for the rest of the evening. We ended up going upstairs, to my apartment, so I could gather the information I needed to give the competition people in order to collect the five thousand dollars.

After I’d emailed them back, we relaxed in my living room, idly watching TV and scrolling through our phones.

I felt kind of bad. I didn’t want Peter to feel like he was hurting me. That hadn’t been my intention at all. And it wasn’t like he’d made me uncomfortable, it was just that sometimes it felt like it’d be better to go along with things and enjoy it, whether or not I was in the mood.

Either way, we ended up falling asleep together, curled up together in my bed.

\---

_I was thirteen._

_Dad dropped me off with Uncle Antonio while he and Aunt Addy ran some errands._

_“You always wear such pretty things for me,” my uncle said, fingers hooking under my bra strap, playing with the lace._

_I looked away. “Dad says it’s part of the deal.”_

_He hummed in agreement, hands starting to wander a little more. I swallowed, willing myself not to puke. “It does help, Michelle. You’ll have to wear pretty things, considering you’re such an…undeveloped young woman.”_

_“I’m thirteen,” I breathed._

_That was the wrong thing to say. I spent the next half hour pinned to his bed with his hand around my neck. He told me, over and over again, how lucky I was that somebody was attracted to me, that somebody could want someone like me._

_I couldn’t breathe, or maybe I would’ve paid more attention._

\---

I was crying. One second, I couldn’t breathe, and then next I was crying.

And I didn’t have the will to stop myself. I let myself cry.

I felt arms tighten around me, and leaned into it. It occurred to me that I was crying in front of Peter, but I wasn’t awake enough yet to really think about that. I just let myself lean into him, pressing my face into his chest and letting sobs wrack my whole body.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Peter whispered. “You’re okay.”

That snapped me awake. I sniffled, trying to stop myself, and started to pull away.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You can keep crying if you need to.”

I slipped out of his arms, sitting up and wiping at my face, catching my breath. He sat up, too, a hand landing gently on my back and rubbing along my spine.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, getting out of bed. “I’m gonna…get some water. I’ll be back.”

“O-okay.”

I went to the kitchen, fully intending to get a glass of water and try and calm down, but instead…I laid down on my kitchen floor, stared at the ceiling, and continued to cry.

_Peter_

I wanted to give her some privacy, but I could hear her crying from the kitchen, and it broke my heart. Iy’d broken my heart to wake up to her crying to begin with, but at least I’d been able to hold her and try to comfort her.

_Leave her alone, she wants to be alone. You can’t help her if she doesn’t want to be helped. You should know this, Peter._

But it hurt too much to hear her sniffles and quieted sobs.

So I got up, silently padding into the kitchen. She was laying on her back, staring at the ceiling, hands folded on her stomach.

“Do you mind if I join you?” I whispered.

She patted the ground next to her, and I laid down.

“Do you wanna talk about any of it? You don’t have to, but…”

“You don’t wanna hear it,” she mumbled.

“Try me.”

She glanced at me, then looked back up at the ceiling. “The first time it happened, I was five. My parents took me to see my aunt and uncle. Mom and Aunt Addy went out for a spa day, and that left Dad and Uncle Antonio to finish a deal they’d been talking about for a while. I-I remember being confused, and it hurt so much, and I kept asking my dad why, but every time I did, I was told that I was too young to understand. And I was.”

She sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Em.”

“I know. It’s fine, it’s not your fault.” She sniffled again. “I’m sorry, that was a lot, and you-”

“You can keep going,” I told her gently. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, and continued. “Um, it happened a lot that year. And then my mom died, and it got even more frequent. God, it- my dad even left me in the car with my uncle after the fucking burial.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Anyways, um, once I hit middle school, it calmed down a little. It didn’t feel like I was living with Uncle Antonio anymore, I guess. I had more time to myself. And that’s when I started taking art as an elective and doing decathlon stuff and all of that. It just…it was weird, because most people’s Friday night plans in seventh grade were going to the movies or having sleepovers, and most weekends, I spent with my dad and my uncle.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I spent most Fridays alone, too,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

MJ snorted softly. _Success_.

“Really, when I think about it, the last couple years haven’t been too bad at all. Dad’s been travelling a lot and I see Uncle Antonio a couple times a month. So, I don’t know, I feel shitty for being a crybaby about it.”

“You’re not a crybaby. You’ve been abused your whole life, you’re allowed to be upset about that.”

“Yeah, but I’m not five anymore. I should be able to handle it.”

“Em…”

She scoffed a little. “I sound crazy to you, don’t I? Not even crazy, just…stupid and broken. Like, ‘oh, look at me, the poor girl who’s been beaten and _raped_ her whole life and never fucking did anything about it, pity me.’ God, I’m sorry.” Her voice started to break when she apologized.

“That’s not what you sound like at all,” I told her gently. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

She was starting to cry again now, and I felt my heart shatter in my chest. “But I…I’m too chicken to say anything. You know that’s the first time I’ve ever even called it…what it is? Jesus, how- why can’t I just say it?”

I gently pulled her towards me, and she willingly turned into me, crying into my shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry.” I stroked her hair, and rubbed her back. “You don’t deserve to feel guilty for any of this. Do you want to go back to bed?”

“No,” she mumbled. “You can, if you’re tired. I just wanna sleep here.”

“Em-”

“I haven’t been raped in here,” she admitted.

That felt like a knife to the throat.

“Okay.”

I held her tighter, letting her cry until she was able to calm down. Once she had gotten past the crying-too-hard-to-breathe stage, I scooted us back so I could sit against the cupboards, and then pulled her into my lap. She tucked her face into my neck, wrapping her arms around me and curling her legs up against me.

Slowly, her breath evened out, and her muscles relaxed. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I’m sorry I can’t save you.” My nose was stinging and my eyes were watering, and then I was crying quietly while she slept. “I’m so sorry.”

I held her tighter to my body, crying as silently as I could, wishing desperately that I could make everything better.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

I kissed the top of her head, squeezing her a little more. She made a soft noise, nuzzling into me a little more, and despite how awful I felt, it warmed my chest a little.

“So much.”


	18. you're such a dream to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which peter learns the joys of skincare

_MJ_

Peter ended up convincing me to stay with him more and more after the night I cried myself to sleep in the kitchen.

It was easier to sleep in his bed. It was easier to get the thoughts of my dad or my uncle out of my head when I was in a bed that I hadn’t ever been…hurt in.

We got into a comfortable routine. Peter would go to his internship, then dinner with May (unless she was working overtime), homework and…other activities in my apartment, I’d do my skincare routine and change, and then we’d go back downstairs for bed.

One night, though, as I was washing my face, Peter was going through my skincare stuff.

“Does this stuff actually do anything, or is it just a placebo?”

I stared at him. “Are you implying that I waste my time and money?”

He looked like a deer in the headlights. It was kind of adorable. “Wha- no, no no no, I was just-”

I laughed. “I know, dorkus. It actually does stuff, I promise.”

He held up a bottle. “So, if I started using this, would I look like James Charles?”

I snorted, laughing hard.

“MJ!”

“No, it just…clears your skin and makes it really hydrated and soft.”

“Wait, that’s why your skin is so soft?”

“Yeah.”

He looked between me and the bottle, and then quietly, timidly asked, “Can you do your skincare stuff on me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I finished my skincare routine, then hopped up on the counter next to my skincare stuff.

“Come on, I’ll guide you through it.”

He stood in front of me as I pulled out a cleanser.

“Hold out your hand.”

“What is that?”

“It’s face wash.”

“Ooh, does it smell nice?” he asked as I pumped some into his hands.

“Like citrus.”

He grinned like an excited kid, slathering the cleanser on.

I had never seen anyone so happy to wash their face.

Afterwards, as he was drying his face with a towel, he said, “Okay, what’s next?”

I picked up my toner, and grabbed a cotton pad. “Come here.”

He stood in front of me as I put some toner on the pad. I gently wiped the pad over his face. He closed his eyes, looking relaxed as I swiped over his face.

“It’s nice and cool,” he breathed.

“It’s aloe and cucumber.”

He opened his eyes, looking at me confused for a second, then seemed to realize. “Oh, like there’s aloe and cucumber in it, it’s not just…straight aloe and cucumber.”

I laughed. “I can’t believe you’re my top competition for valedictorian.”

“Hey!”

I threw out the cotton pad, and lifted my legs to open a drawer. “I think we should put a mask on you. That’ll be fun.”

Peter retreated a little, scared as I started pulling out masks.

“Since when are you…a girl?”

I snorted. “I feel like you should be very well acquainted with the fact that I’m a girl,” I teased.

“No, I mean, like…since when are you all into face masks and stuff?”

I shrugged. “It’s a nice little time killer. I use them more when I’m home alone for weeks and I get bored.” He looked a little sad, so I held up a mask. “This one’s carbonated.”

“What?” he asked, looking a little apprehensive.

Upon seeing his reaction, I grinned. “We’re doing this one. It’ll be fun.”

I opened the tub and grabbed my silicone brush out of the drawer, dipping it into the clay.

“Come on,” I whined, grabbing Peter’s wrist and pulling him closer. “It won’t bite.”

He reluctantly allowed me to paint his face in grey-green clay, sighing a little when I’d giggle.

“I feel like maybe the fact that you’re amused by this is sexist.”

“Oh, I’m not amused because men can’t do skincare, I’m amused because you look so uncomfortable even though this is usually a relaxing thing.”

He rolled his eyes a little. “I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just…it feels weird. Also, I think this mask lied to you because I don’t feel any carbonation.”

I looked at him, seeing bubbles start to form on his face, and decided to lie through my teeth. “Huh, I guess you’re right. It’s not doing anything.”

We hung out in my bathroom as his face started to bubble up. I strategically kept him distracted so he didn’t look in the mirror.

It was absolutely maddening how cute he looked. Big brown eyes, cheeks rounded out by the bubbly mask, floppy curls…

And then my hands were on his shoulders, pulling him closer as I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

His hands landed on top of my thighs, and then slid over me, to my waist. It didn’t get steamy or fast, it was just…soft and sweet.

He slowly pulled away, and then started chuckling. I opened my eyes, to see the imprint of my nose in his mask. I started laughing too.

“It did bubble up, you liar,” Peter teased, playfully pushing my shoulder.

“Yeah, look at yourself in the mirror.” I moved out of the way, and watched him look at his reflection.

“Whoa!” He started poking the mask, watching his fingers sink in through the bubbles in wonder.

Maddeningly cute, as per usual.

“You’re supposed to rub it in,” I told him softly, wetting a cloth and wiping the mask off of my nose.

He pressed his hands into his mask and started rubbing in circles. “This feels weirdly nice.”

“Why do you think I use it?”

He closed his eyes, still rubbing the mask in. “It’s growing on me.”

I snorted. “I think it did that already.”

“Can I wash it off now?”

“Yeah.”

He scrubbed the mask off, somehow still looking adorable. Once he’d dried off his face, he turned to me. “Okay, what’s the next step?”

“Serum, then moisturizer,” I told him, grabbing a bottle of oil.

“Ooh, it has gold in it!”

I laughed, using the eyedropper to drip some serum onto his face. He grinned.

“I feel so fancy.”

I smiled, rubbing the oil into his face. He leaned into my hands, looking blissful.

And, god, I wanted to kiss him again so badly, but it hadn’t made things weird the first time, and I didn’t wanna test my luck a second time.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a list of everything you have in that drawer,” Peter mumbled, too relaxed to speak normally.

I laughed softly. _I love you._

“I’m serious.”

“Peter, that’s an investment and a half.”

“How expensive is this stuff?”

“It’s sixty-seven bucks.”

He sputtered, stepping back. “Dude, stop wasting it on me!”

“It’s not the end of the world if I use a few drops on you,” I sighed. “It’s just skincare.”

“It’s expensive, and it’s yours. If it were, like, from CVS, that’d be a different story, but-”

I hopped off of the counter. “Money isn’t everything.”

“I know that, but-”

“No, Peter, I need you to look around. There is probably upwards of a thousand dollars worth of skincare in that drawer, and I have a really nice apartment to myself, and a really great car that I don’t have to pay a cent on. And it’s fine and all, and I’m grateful to be this privileged, but I’m still unhappy.”

He gave me the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes, and then looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, you dork.” I grabbed a moisturizer. “Am I allowed to put the finishing touches on?”

“Sure,” he said softly, so I opened the container and started dotting moisturizer all over his face.

It was quiet for a bit as I started to rub the cream in.

“Are you depressed?” Peter asked tentatively.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I haven’t been diagnosed.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

I looked him in the eye. “It’s been better the last few months. Less lonely.”

That seemed to ease his worry a little.

I finished rubbing the moisturizer in, and then kind of just…stayed there, holding his face, looking at him.

His hands moved to my waist, pulling me in, and he kissed me.

For a split second, I was worried about the outcome. If it’d be weird later on, that we’d kissed twice. If we’d have to talk about it and I’d be forced to admit how I felt and everything would come crashing down.

Fortunately for me, kissing Peter is one of those things that’s really distracting, so I wasn’t thinking about any of that for long.

I sighed softly, letting myself lean into him more and more. His arms wrapped around my midsection, hugging me tight.

_I love you._

To my surprise, it didn’t speed up. It stayed slow and soft and sweet for the second time. He just held me tight and we kissed.

I couldn’t tell you how long we were there. Could’ve been a minute, an hour, a year. I wouldn’t have known if a wormhole opened above Grand Central Station and aliens started attacking the city. As far as I was concerned, Peter and I were the only two people in the whole world.

Something thudded upstairs, loudly, and I jumped.

“Hey, whoa, don’t panic,” Peter said quickly, “something probably just fell over.”

I looked down, huffing a little. “I’m okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I can be jumpy too.” He held me a little tighter. “Thanks for the pampering.”

I smiled at him. “No problem.”

“Ready for bed?”

“Yeah, just let me change first.”

I went into my bedroom and threw on some pajamas, then went out into the living room. Peter was sitting on the couch, texting someone.

“Hey, I’m ready to head downstairs.”

He glanced over, and looked at me weird. “Is that my shirt?”

I looked down. It had a math joke on it, which was very Peter-y, but it was definitely my shirt. “No, I don’t think so.”

He grinned, lopsided and adorable. “Does this mean I’m rubbing off on you?”

“If you play your cards right, maybe later,” I teased with a wink. “Come on, let’s go.”

He followed me out of the apartment, and we walked down the hall to the elevator.

“Are you cold?” he asked as we were walking, glancing down at my legs. I was wearing a pair of soft shorts, and the halls were generally a little chilly.

I shrugged. “A little. I’m okay though.”

Peter gave me the smallest, softest, cutest smile. “You want me to go back into your apartment and grab a blanket? You can wear it like a cape.”

I snorted. “I’m fine, but thanks, dorkus.”

“At this rate, they’re gonna call me Dorkus Parker in the yearbook,” he joked.

I looked at him, summoning the most serious look I could muster. “That’d be my dream come true.”

Peter laughed. “I’m sure it would.”

We got into the elevator, and stood side-by-side. It got very quiet and a little tense.

All I could think about was how badly I wanted to hold his hand.

Or how badly I wanted to kiss him again.

But I didn’t do either of those things before the doors opened again.

“You’re shivering,” Peter remarked as we headed down the hall. “Want some hot chocolate when we get in?”

I hesitated.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” He pulled his key out of his pocket as we got to his door.

“It’s a yes,” I admitted with a sigh.

“Stop being so resistant when I wanna do something nice for you.” His voice was soft and gentle, and he gave me puppy eyes as he pushed the door open _. I love you._

“Stop being so nice and let me have my complexes.”

“Nope.”

As we entered the apartment, May was coming out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Peter, I cleaned up your room a little while you two were downstairs.”

Peter tensed up a little. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I’d suggest getting ribbed condoms, honey, MJ will thank you later. Have a good night, you two.”

She disappeared into her bedroom, smiling sweetly at each of us before closing the door. Peter had turned bright red. I burst out laughing.

“I didn’t know that she knew!”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets, Peter.”

“Well, you go to bed. I’ll be up on the roof, debating whether or not I should jump off,” he grumbled.

“Hey, that wasn’t that bad,” I said, stifling laughter. I grabbed his hand, pulling him towards his room. “And May might have a point.”

“Oh, god.”

I snorted. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained.”

_Peter_

MJ fell asleep quickly that night, head resting on my shoulder, arms wrapped around me. I played with her curls as I stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how May found the condoms. They’d been tucked in the back of a drawer, covered up by a bunch of old trinkets. Easy enough to access but you had to know they were there. Why would May be opening drawers anyways? I figured all she did was put clothes in the laundry, maybe organize my homework a little.

I would’ve understood if she came to the conclusion that we were dating. Actually, I didn’t know that she didn’t think we were dating. But that would make sense. MJ had been around a lot, sleeping over almost every night.

That begged the question: Did May know what was actually going on? Had Mr. Stark told her? Had she figured it out? Was I just that bad at sneaking around?

MJ stirred a little, and then lifted her head.

“Hey, did you have a nightmare?” I asked softly.

She shook her head. “No, just woke up I guess. Why are you still up? Overthinking?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled, the light of the city coming in through the window and lighting up her face a little. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

I grinned. “No, I’m okay. You can go back to sleep.”

“Stop being resistant when I’m trying to be nice,” she teased. Her voice had that sleepy quality, and I could tell her eyelids were heavy.

“Stop trying to stay awake for my sake.”

She sighed, letting her head rest on my shoulder again. “You’re impossible, Peter Parker.”

“Wow, I got the full name treatment. I really am in trouble.”

She gave a sleepy, airy laugh. “I didn’t say your middle name, so it’s not that bad.”

“Thank god, I don’t wanna lose my place on the team.”

Nuzzling into my neck, she mumbled, “Yeah, you’re on thin ice.”

“Goodnight, Em.”

“G’night.”

\---

The next evening, while MJ was upstairs studying and I was supposed to be on “internship duty”, I sat down with May on the couch. She was on her laptop, doing some work, and I was sitting with a workbook in my lap, twirling a pencil on my fingertips.

I had to broach the subject somehow, but how do you do that?

“H-hey, um, May?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t planned out exactly what to say.

“Yeah?”

_Don’t panic, don’t say something stupid, don’t panic, don’t say something stupid-_

“What exactly, uh, do you- do you think, umm-”

“I know you and MJ aren’t dating,” she assured me.

“So…how did you know I had…?”

She chuckled. “Ned figured it out and asked me if I knew what was going on because he didn’t want to ask you if you and MJ were dating. Then I started putting some pieces together.”

I looked back down at my workbook. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, of course not, honey. I’m…worried, a little, but I’m glad you’re being safe.”

“Worried about what?”

May gave me this kind of…sad look. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you love her, and I think she loves you, too, but it’s not that easy sometimes.”

“I know. It feels like it’s…worth it, though.” I moved my workbook off of my lap.

She rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “It can be. And I love MJ, she’s so sweet. But you have to be prepared for how hard it could be.”

I nodded. “It’s already hard, though, May. And it’s…I don’t wanna let her go.”

“I think you need to tell her how you feel. Not now, necessarily, but it’ll get harder the longer you go without telling her and it’s already been months.”

I sighed. “I don’t wanna scare her off.”

May moved her laptop onto the coffee table and pulled me a little closer. I laid down on the couch, my head in her lap.

“If it scares her off, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I want it to be meant to be,” I admitted.

She rubbed my shoulder. “You’ll be okay either way, Peter. You’re a tough cookie.”

\---

The next day at lunch, Ned and I were sitting on the ground in the band room, eating lunch in silence. I had a sandwich that May had made me, he had a tray of sushi that Betty had brought him, before disappearing with MJ.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Sure,” he mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

“How did you know MJ and I were hooking up?”

He choked, coughing a couple times. “What?”

“May told me you told her.”

“I knew…something was going on. I didn’t know what. But, geez, Peter, you’re not great at hiding things.”

“You didn’t know about the _internship_ until-”

“Until you so elegantly blew your cover?”

I hesitated, and that turned into a couple minutes of eating in silence.

“So what did you think was going on?”

“I thought you two were dating. I kind of still think you are, Peter.”

“We’re not- we’re just-”

“Dude, she spends every single night with you.”

“Yeah, but that’s…it’s because of something else.”

Ned narrowed his eyes at me. “You both very clearly have feelings for each other, you spend all of your time together, you’re obviously sleeping together.”

I sighed. “So you didn’t buy the Miles thing?”

He scoffed. “Not for a second. You don’t have a poker face.”

“Well, I’m glad everyone just let us continue to sneak around for months-”

“Whoa, what?”

I frowned.

“I thought this had been going on for a few weeks. When did it start?”

I lowered my gaze. “Uh, after that party with Liz in, uh, October?”

Ned’s face fell. “October? You guys have been fooling around since October and you didn’t tell me?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t think it’d look great for MJ if everyone knew.”

“Best friend confidentiality,” Ned whined. “You could’ve told me. God knows I needed someone other than Flash to talk to about sexual stuff.”

I almost dropped my sandwich. “You’ve been talking to Flash?”

“I did once. He doesn’t seem to have as much experience as he says he does.”

I cracked up, and then we were both laughing our heads off.

“Are we supposed to be surprised?” I said, breathless as I laughed.

Ned shook his head, still cackling.

Eventually, we stopped laughing and caught our breaths, and it was quiet for a bit as we ate.

“Are you gonna tell her how you feel?” Ned asked softly.

I shrugged. “I don’t know if I can put that on her.”

“What do you mean? She’s MJ.”

I hesitated. “She’s…she’s got enough going on. It’s a whole thing, I don’t know,” I lied, terribly. I really needed to learn to lie. Maybe I’d ask Mr. Stark if he could put me in touch with Miss Romanoff.

“But it’s MJ. She’s a badass. Remember the time she punched a dude in the face because he grabbed her at a party?”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know, dude. I think she can handle it. And, I mean, she clearly feels the same about you.”

“No, she doesn’t,” I mumbled.

Ned frowned. “Why do you say that?”

I shook my head, staring at the ground and the last bite of my lunch. “I-I don’t know, it’s just…a gut feeling.”

“Mmm, your spidey-sense is broken.”

I coughed. “My spidey-sense is just fine, Ned.”

“Clearly not.”

“Or maybe I’m right.” I took the last bite of my sandwich.

“What makes you say that?”

I swallowed way too early, and had to scrunch up my face as a ball of unchewed sandwich made its way down my throat. “I…kissed her. And nothing changed.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“No…”

Ned gave me this exasperated look. “How was something supposed to change if you never talked about it? Wait wait wait, did she kiss you back?”

Hesitantly, I responded, “W-well, um, she sorta…kissed me first.”

“WHAT?”

“I don’t know! It was a weird night. It felt like we were dating.”

He sighed heavily. “Dude, if it feels like you’re dating, have you considered that maybe you’re dating?”

“No! She’s…her. She’s gonna go for somebody better. She needs somebody better.” It wasn’t untrue. She deserved the type of person who could actually help her get out from under her dad’s control and abuse.

“Peter, you’re an Avenger, she’s not gonna find anybody better. You’re the best there is.”

I stared at the ground.

“Are you gonna tell me anything else about the kiss?”

I shrugged. “It was just a kiss, I guess.”

“Do you know why she kissed you?”

“I dunno. We were in her bathroom and she put this face mask on me and we were kind of just hanging out and then she-she just…grabbed me and kissed me.”

“And what happened after?”

“We kinda just…went back to normal. Like it didn’t happen.”

“Wait,” Ned said, frowning in confusion, “did you kiss her after that?”

I nodded.

“So there were two kisses and you still think she doesn’t at least like you?”

“She’s the one who proposed meaningless sex, so clearly it doesn’t mean anything to her.”

I’d known that the whole time, but man, it hurt to say out loud. Felt like having a building dropped on you.

Ned sighed. “You two need to talk about this.”

“No, I’m not…I’m not telling her anything that means the end of the deal. If I tell her that I’m in-in love with her, she’ll end it, and then I’ll lose her.”

“Or, you know, she’ll tell you she loves you back and you’ll live happily ever after.”

I shook my head. “I’m not risking it. It’s fine the way it is. I get to pretend everything’s how I want it to be, even if it isn’t.”

The bell rang, signalling five minutes until class started.

“Alright,” Ned said, putting his stuff in his bag and standing up, “I guess it’s up to you.”

I started to stand up. “Listen, I’d tell her if I didn’t have so much to lose.”

“Would you?”

I hesitated. “Okay, you’re right.”

Ned snorted. “It happens on occasion.” We did our handshake. “I’ll see you after class.”

“See you.”

As I headed out of the band room, I walked straight into MJ. She yelped, dropping her book, and I managed to catch it, handing it back to her.

“Hey.”

“Hi, sorry, should’ve been…watching where I was going,” she said, taking the book and tucking it under her arm.

“It’s okay. Want me to walk you to class? I’m proficient at book-catching.”

She laughed lightly, brushing some hair away from her face. “Yeah, sure.”

We started to head towards her class, dodging freshmen and obnoxious football kids who thought they owned the school.

“Can you believe this is our last semester of high school?” I asked. “I mean, next year, we’re all gonna be in college or-”

I got bodychecked into the wall by a quarterback.

“Or working at a McDonald’s and living in their parent’s basement because they fucked around for four years and barely passed,” MJ remarked, giving him stink eye. “You okay?”

I smiled. “I’m okay.”

“Asshole,” she grumbled, still glaring.

“Whoa, it’s fine, Em.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just glad there’ll be fewer jocks in college.”

“Did you get an offer yet?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Two. Haven’t accepted either yet.”

“Where are they?”

“NYU and Columbia. What about you?”

I shook my head. “Haven’t heard anything back yet.”

“When did you apply?”

“Couple of weeks ago.”

She nodded. “Took me about a month to hear back. You’ll get in just fine.”

We stopped by her class. “I’ll see you tonight?” I asked.

She frowned, then checked her phone. “Uh, my dad gets in from South Korea tonight. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know.”

“Text me if you need anything, okay?”

She forced a small smile, nodding. “Bye.”

“See you.”

MJ walked past me into her class. I turned around and went to mine, my stomach starting to turn as the implications of her dad getting home set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is gonna be big rough for our main characters, can't wait for y'all to read it


	19. you're my moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big ass abuse warning on this one. also a drug warning. basically this one is a mess and i'm v sorry (but also its a lil cute at the end so i'm trying to make it worth it for you guys)

_Peter_

“How long is he in town?”

“Few more days. I think he leaves again on Monday,” MJ shrugged.

“Are you okay?”

She gave me a soft smile. “I’ve had worse. Haven’t had to visit my uncle, so I’m doing okay.”

I frowned. I hated that that was her idea of being okay. “Do you need any-”

“Shhhh!”

MJ lowered her head. I resisted the urge to glare at the librarian. She was just doing her job.

I put a hand on MJ’s back, and she winced, so I moved my hand to her arm.

“Do you need anything?” I whispered.

She shook her head. “It’ll be okay.”

When she shook her head, her hair fell away from her shoulder, exposing a…wound at the base of her neck.

“Em,” I whispered, sliding my hand up her arm. “What happened?”

Her hand went to her neck, covering the wound. “Shit. Um, I got the belt. I’m okay, it’s not a big deal.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t heard back from MIT or Yale or Harvard, and my dad got mad because he thought that meant I wasn’t good enough to admit quickly.”

I wanted to hug her and kiss her forehead and tell her it’d be okay. But I couldn’t do that.

“Are you okay?”

I waited for her to say that she was, but she just said, “I don’t think so.”

Just as I was about to follow up, Ned and Betty came into the library with their books, sitting down at our table. MJ fixed her hair and plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey, guys,” Betty said, putting a bag of gummy worms in the middle of the table. “I brought snacks.”

“That’s the only way to survive study hall,” MJ teased, grabbing one.

It was kind of amazing how she could just…put the mask on.

“So what’s it like when your dad’s in town?” Betty asked. “Do you guys do anything special?”

MJ’s hand bunched up the fabric of her dress under the table. “We, uh, might go for dinner or something tonight.”

“What?” I asked, earning a weird look from Ned. “I, uh, you said you were cramming for calc.”

She shrugged. “If we don’t go for dinner.”

I turned back to my homework. “Guess that makes sense.”

“Hey, I got a Millennium Falcon LEGO set,” Ned said, trying to diffuse the tension. “Do you have time to help build it?”

“Uh, I’m on internship duty until seven. You wanna come over for dinner with May and then we can build?”

“Yeah, works for me.”

Betty and MJ were sharing a knowing look.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Betty chuckled, kissing Ned’s cheek. “I just think you’re cute.”

“Do you feel like you’re being talked down to?” Ned asked. “I feel like they’re being a little condescending.”

“It’s not condescension,” MJ argued. “It’s…amusement.”

“Sounds like condescension.” I nudged her arm gently.

She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and looked back down at her workbook.

The four of us sat there and worked and chatted quietly for our study blocks.

I felt weird knowing I was the only one who knew MJ was hurt.

\---

“You’re basically just Iron Man’s sidekick.”

“W-what? That’s, heh, that’s ridiculous,” I argued. “I was Spider-Man long before he teched me out and-and- hey, you’re not one to talk, you’re webbed to a wall.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda pissed about it, too. Does this stuff leave residue? This is a Champion sweater.”

I sighed. “Listen, I just need the name of your supplier and then I’ll let you go. Won’t even tell the cops about you.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna-”

Karen interrupted. “Incoming call from MJ.”

“De- wait. Answer.”

MJ got patched through, and the first thing I heard was shaky breathing.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I-I-I need you.” She was hyperventilating. “Uncle Antonio was here and-and I pushed him away and he made me take a- it was a pill, and he- I-I kept fighting back and it pissed him off and he yelled at my- at my dad and Dad threw a vase at me.”

“Whoa, okay, slow down. Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Are you okay?”

“There’s vase sticking out of my arm, and I’m pret-pretty fucking high.”

“Shit, okay, I’ll be right there.”

She hung up.

“Karen, alert the cops about this guy,” I said, already lifting my arm to swing away.

“Wait, no, you said-”

I zipped off before he could say anything else.

“Karen, how bad would it be to reveal my identity to someone who’s high?”

“Potentially catastrophic,” she helpfully informed me.

“Great.”

We stopped in my apartment, and I threw on clothes on top of the suit, leaving my mask behind, and then I ran up the fire escape to MJ’s room.

I knocked on the window, and she looked up from where she was sitting on the ground. She was wearing a bra and shorts, and looked awfully pale. When she got up, she swayed, and I could see the shard of clay that had lodged itself in her arm. There was blood trickling down her skin, but it didn’t seem to bother her too much.

She opened the window. Her face was pale, except for the pink nose and eyes. Tears stained her cheeks.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice sounded ten times more broken in person.

“Where’s your dad and uncle?”

“They left,” she mumbled, swaying. I slipped in and caught her, sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her closer, before she could sway too much.

“We should get you to a clinic or hospital or something,” I said, looking at her arm.

“No. You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“If my dad’s insurance company tells him or the hospital calls him, it’ll- it’ll be really bad. It happened with Miles and my back took weeks to heal.”

I frowned. “You can’t not see a doctor, Em.”

She looked at me with the biggest, saddest eyes. “Please, Peter.”

I imagined something worse happening to her, and gave in. “Okay. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Under my bed.”

I sat her down on the bed, and pulled the kit out. I pulled out some alcohol swabs.

“This is gonna sting, okay?”

She shrugged. Her eyes were closed now, her face entirely blank.

I started cleaning the wound, going around the shard, scared to pull it out. You’re not supposed to pull things like this out, right? What if it’d hit an artery, and I pulled it out and she bled out? That’s on me.

“Okay, I gotta get you to someone,” I said, “I’m not qualified to deal with this.”

“Don’t take me to a hospital,” she mumbled. “Please.”

I sighed, pulling my phone out and dialling Mr. Stark’s number.

“Hey, kid,” he answered after the first ring, his voice tired.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, a little, but I fell asleep in the workshop so it’s probably a good thing.” I could almost see him wiping a hand down his face.

“I need…some advice or maybe a favour or something.”

“Sure.”

“So, MJ’s…got a bit of vase in her arm.”

“What?”

“There’s like a shard of broken vase and it’s-”

“Take her to the hospital!”

“I can’t. Last time something like this happened and she went to the hospital, it made things way worse for her. I just…do you know how to deal with this?”

He sighed. “I’ll send Helen over. She’s working at a hospital a few minutes away from you, but I think she can help.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, anytime, Peter. Keep her calm, okay? I gotta call Helen, I’ll text you when she’s on her way.”

“Got it. Thanks, sir.”

_Click._

“Okay, Mr. Stark’s gonna ask someone he knows if she can help us.”

MJ started to mumble something, voice trailing off as she rested her forehead on my shoulder.

“You gotta stay awake, Em.”

She groaned, nuzzling her forehead against me.

My phone buzzed. There was an unknown number calling me.

“Hello?”

“Is this Peter?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Dr. Helen Cho, Mr. Stark asked me to call you and talk to you about a medical concern.”

“Yeah, um, my friend has a-a chunk of vase in her arm.”

There was a pause, and then she said, “Send me your address,” and hung up.

I texted the address to the number.

“Okay, Em, we should get you into the living room or kitchen or something.”

“I don’t wanna move. I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep?”

“No, we have to get this out of your arm and make sure you’re okay and _then_ we can go to sleep,” I told her, brushing some hair out of her face.

She looked up at me, eyes wide and lip quivering. “You’ll stay, right? Please?”

“Of course, I’m not leaving you alone when you’re like this,” I assured her.

Her eyes got watery and she looked down. “I’m sorry I need you so much.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Everybody needs somebody.”

Tears started to spill onto her cheeks, so I gently swiped them away with my thumb.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

She seemed perfectly fine with that, so I scooped her up and brought her into the kitchen, sitting her on the counter.

Dr. Cho texted me, so I buzzed her in. She was knocking on the door a minute later.

“You’re lucky I owe Mr. Stark a favour,” she said, coming inside. “Not that I wouldn’t have done this otherwise, I just probably would’ve sent an associate.”

“She’s in the kitchen.”

She went into the kitchen, carrying a heavy-looking bag, and set up on the counter.

“She’s, um, high on something. I don’t think she knows what.”

“It’s a small dose,” MJ said softly as Dr. Cho inspected her arm. “It just makes me sleepy for a few hours and then I’m fine.”

“Did you take it willingly?”

“No.”

She nodded. “Probably a date rape drug.”

“I think it’s Rohypnol,” MJ mumbled. “I heard my dad say something about it last time.”

I felt sick. I wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and take her somewhere safe, like the compound. Somewhere her dad couldn’t get to her. But that’d make things worse, so I couldn’t.

“Do you know how much?”

MJ shrugged. “It was probably only one milligram. Last time he used more than that, I was really dizzy for a few days and he didn’t like that I couldn’t do chores ‘n’ stuff.”

Dr. Cho nodded, and then turned to me. “Hold her hand. This might hurt her, and it’ll be dangerous if she flinches.”

I slipped my hand into MJ’s. “Hey, look at me.” She turned to look at me, her eyes half glazed over. “Focus on me, okay? You can squeeze my hand if you need to.”

“Why?”

Dr. Cho started to pull on the shard and MJ yelped a little, digging her nails into my hand.

“You’re okay,” I whispered, trying to assure her. “Everything’s okay.”

Dr. Cho used a small…probe…thing to cauterize the wound as she was pulling the shard out. I could hear it buzzing with electricity, and MJ squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into my hand deeper. I rubbed her back with my free hand, trying to keep her calm.

Once the shard was out, Dr. Cho taped the wound shut, and then wrapped a bandage around her arm.

“You’re all done. Take it easy, keep the wound clean, replace the tape if it comes off before the skin’s healed together.”

MJ definitely was not focused, so I nodded. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it. Stay with her tonight, okay? Maybe wake her up every couple hours to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Got it.”

I walked Dr. Cho out of the apartment, and then went back to MJ.

“Hey, Em, how are you feeling?” I asked, standing in front of her.

She groaned softly, eyes half-lidded. “I’m sleepy.”

I smiled reassuringly. “Let’s go to bed, then.”

I helped her down off of the counter, and she leaned against me as we walked back to her room.

“Do you wanna change?” I asked, closing her door behind us.

She shook her head, flopping down across her bed. “I’m too tired.”

“I can help you if you want.”

She groaned again. “Come lay down.”

I sighed, helping her under the covers. “I gotta run downstairs and change, are you okay in here?”

She nodded, eyes already drifting shut as she curled up under her covers.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised quietly, gently stroking her hair before leaving through her window.

I ran downstairs and changed, taking off the clothes I’d thrown on over my suit, my suit, and then throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

I ran back upstairs and climbed in through her window.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Mkay, it’s you.”

I crawled into bed next to her, spooning her. “Did you think it was someone else?”

“Just wanna make sure,” she mumbled, leaning into me. “Thanks for staying.”

“Of course. Whatever you need, Em.”

She hummed a little, her hand running over my arm. “You’re such a good guy.”

I smiled at her almost loving tone, and resisted the urge to kiss her neck or shoulder. “I just want you to be safe.”

“That’s what makes you such a good guy.” Her voice got quieter at the end, and her hand stilled on my arm. I listened closely, and her breathing and heart rate evened out.

“I love you, Em,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I love you so much.”

I held her a little tighter, and then let myself drift off.


	20. stay with me a minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guess who finished their exams!!! so there's only a few chapters left, and then i'll likely be taking a break from writing fanfics to write some original stuff (might throw in a one shot here or there bc i've got a few ideas)   
> i'm super excited for you guys to read the next few chapters though. they get pretty exciting :)

_MJ_

Peter was already awake when I woke up, one hand stroking my hair, the other typing away on his phone.

I felt disgusting, which was just what happens after you’re drugged, I guess.

“Morning,” I grumbled.

Peter pulled his hand away from my hair. “Morning. How do you feel?”

I shook my head, pulling the blankets up around me tighter. “Gross.”

He laughed a little, wrapping himself around me. I closed my eyes and just…enjoyed it. “Well, you seem a lot more clear-headed now.”

“I feel like myself.”

“That’s good. How’s your arm?”

I sighed. “Sore. It’s not bad, though, so I might just take an Advil and call it a day.”

Peter’s phone started buzzing, and he muttered an apology before getting up and leaving the room, lifting his phone to his ear as he did.

While he was on the phone, I got up, only to feel a…gush.

 _Fuck_.

I checked the sheets, and they were clean, so I just grabbed fresh clothes and a tampon and changed, then ran to the laundry room and threw my dirty clothes in the wash.

Peter was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking quietly into his phone. His hair was an absolute mess, curls sticking up in every direction. His hand was on the back of his neck, gently rubbing, like he’d slept funny. His head was tilted a little to one side, and I found myself staring at the underside of his jaw, thinking about kissing under his ear and down his neck and-

Yep. Period hormones were definitely in full swing.

I got out some cereal, and reached into the cupboard for bowls. I held up a bowl and looked at Peter, but he shook his head.

Alright, he’s not staying for breakfast.

I poured myself a bowl of cereal, and sat up on the counter to eat.

“-yeah, sounds good. Thank you, Ms. Potts. Yeah, you too.”

He hung up.

“So, I take it you’re on internship duty today?”

“Better. Babysitting duty.”

I smiled. “You’ll have to send me photos.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna put Morgan in the onesie I got her and send you selfies. You’re gonna love it.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He fell silent for a second, his smile falling off of his face. “How are you feeling today?”

I shrugged. “Fine, all things considered. Sore, a little gross-”

“I meant emotionally,” he interrupted gently, brushing some hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.

“I feel okay,” I answered honestly. “I had a…a pretty great friend with me all night, so I’m doing just fine.”

He smiled. “Good. I gotta head out, because I’ve gotta be at the compound all day, but text me if you need anything, okay? I’ll bring Morgan if I have to.”

I set down my cereal and jumped down from the counter, hugging him. He hugged back twice as tight, letting me sink into him for a moment.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Yeah, of course, Em.”

I pulled away, fixing his hair a little. “Have fun, I’ll talk to you later.”

“See you.”

He left with one last soft smile in my direction.

God, I was such a sucker for that boy.

\---

I ended up getting hit with cramps around noon, and spent most of my day laying on the living room floor, reading through notes and textbooks and groaning to an empty apartment.

The gross feeling that was leftover from whatever I was given yesterday didn’t let up, either. Period hormones likely didn’t help.

I was fully committed to lounging in sweats, drinking gallons of tea, and re-microwaving my heating pad every hour, hoping the cramps would let up eventually.

When my phone started buzzing, it was late afternoon, and I was laying on my stomach, heating pad underneath me, reading my textbook.

“Hey, dorkus,” I answered, putting my phone on speaker so I didn’t have to hold it to my ear.

“Hey, I’m just about to head upstairs, can we hang out? It’s just…it’s been a little while since we got to hang out, just the two of us, and-”

I cut him off. “Yeah, I’d love to hang out, I just…don’t feel like doing anything. I’m on my period, so I feel really gross, and especially after yesterday I’m kinda not feeling-”

“Oh, no no no no no, that’s not what I was trying to say.” Peter laughed a little, nervously. “I just wanted to…I don’t know, watch a movie or something. I figured you wouldn’t be super inclined to fool around.”

Did he have to be so sweet?

“Yeah, I’m okay with watching a movie. And, hey, I didn’t get any cute photos.”

“Oh, I took a bunch, I just didn’t send them. I’ll show you when I get up there. See you in a sec.”

“See you.”

He hung up.

A couple minutes later, he knocked on my door.

“Snack delivery,” he called through the door.

I got up and answered the door, only to see him with a backpack full of snacks.

“Did you pick up snacks just for me?” I asked.

He smiled. “I kinda…did the math, figured out what time of the month it is.”

“Creep,” I teased, pulling him into the apartment.

“Well, I- yeah, maybe, I guess, but-”

“I was kidding, you dork.”

He grinned, pulling at the fabric of his hoodie, showing off the patch. I laughed.

He set his bag down and started pulling out snacks. “So, I have just about every type of chocolate bar ever made, a bunch of gummies, found some Livewires…”

“Livewires are my favourite!”

“I got the blue ones.”

I smiled. “Those are the best ones.”

“Right?”

He tossed me a package of them, and then pulled out bottles of Coke, offering me one. I shook my head.

“No, thanks, I have tea.”

He saw my mug on the coffee table, and nodded. “Makes sense.”

We settled down on the couch, and turned on the TV, scrolling through to find a TV show or movie to watch.

I started to get really bad cramps again, so I pulled my feet up onto the couch and tried to ignore it.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice strained a little. “I’m good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you need anything?”

I shook my head. “I just gotta reheat my heating pad. I’ll get up in a second.”

“Here.” He grabbed it, jumping away from me before I could grab it back. “How long do I heat it for?”

I crossed my arms. “You can just let me do it.”

“Nope. I’ve got it.” He glanced down at the pad. “It says one minute on each side in the microwave.”

I sighed. “Thanks, Peter.”

“Of course.”

He went into the kitchen, and put it in the microwave. “So, how’s your arm doing?”

I looked at it. “It seems fine.”

He came over. “Can I take a look, maybe replace the bandage?”

“I’m not really worried-”

“I am,” he said softly. “It looked really bad yesterday, and you were in a lot of pain, and I just wanna make sure it’s okay.”

I held out my arm without a word. Slowly, he started to unwrap it, fingers grazing over my skin. He looked so focused, eyes narrowed, tongue stuck out a little.

God, he was gorgeous.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“No, no, I’m okay.”

He smiled a little at me. “Well, your arm looks okay. Doesn’t look infected or anything.”

The microwave beeped.

“I’ll, um, flip that over and then bring you a new bandage and re-wrap your arm.”

“Thanks.”

He got up, went into the kitchen, flipped over the heating pad and gave it another minute, and went to my room to grab another tensor bandage. By the time he found it and came back, the microwave was going off again.

“Nothing like a microwave timer to show you exactly how screwy your concept of time is,” Peter grumbled.

I chuckled a little.

He came back with the heating pad, now warm, and the bandage. I pulled the heating pad onto my stomach with my free hand while he re-wrapped my arm.

“Too tight?” he asked.

I shook my head, so he secured the wrap and sat back on the couch.

“Well, it’s good that you’re healing alright so far.”

I looked at my arm. “God, if I didn’t know any better, it’d feel like a dream or something. I don’t remember it hurting.”

Peter gave me this sad, kicked-puppy look. “I-I guess that’s a good thing.”

He looked like he was on the verge of tears, so I scooted closer. “Hey, I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch.”

“But what if this happens again and it’s more than a scratch?” he asked, eyes getting glassy. “What if you can’t call me in time?”

“It’s not gonna get that bad.”

“How do you know?” he asked, voice going soft. “Did you think it was gonna get this bad yesterday?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just…it’s because I fought back, but I’m not gonna do that again and-”

“But you should! I- god, every time I think too hard about it, I feel like there’s bugs crawling under my skin. I don’t know how you can just lay there and-and-”

Tears started to fall from his eyes.

“Okay, come here,” I said softly, pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in my shoulder, arms wrapping tight around me.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled by my shoulder. “I know it’s shitty of me to be crying over stuff that’s happened to you but-”

“It’s okay. I get it.” I stroked his hair a little. “It’s nice to know you care.”

“Of course I care. You’re…my best friend.”

I squeezed him a little tighter. “Yeah, you’re mine, too.”

He cried for a minute or two longer, and then sniffled and pulled away.

“What do you wanna watch?”

His eyes and nose were pink from crying, and all I wanted to do was kiss him and cuddle up and fall asleep.

“It’s up to you.”

“Come on, give me a starting point.”

I smiled at him. “Pick a comedy.”

“One comedy, coming right up.”

I giggled a little, grabbing some livewires off of the coffee table and offering him one. He smiled, taking it and holding it between his teeth while he scrolled through Netflix.

He picked a movie, and then sat back, grabbing the end of his livewire and tearing it with his teeth. Somehow, he managed to make that both hot and adorable. _Fucking asshole._

“How’s this?” he asked, leaning back. I barely glanced at the TV before I nodded, lifting my mug to my lips. “Alright.”

He hit play, and the movie started. We settled in, passing snacks back and forth, pointing out plot holes and inconsistencies, laughing. Slowly but surely, we drifted towards each other, until our shoulders were pressed together and our knees were touching and our faces were so close together and…

I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. It was already complicated and everything was such a mess and I couldn’t just kiss him, not again-

And then his lips were pressed to mine. They tasted like livewires and chocolates and god, I was so, so, so in love with him.

He pulled me into his lap, cradling me a little as we kissed. I looped my arms around his neck.

Part of me held out hope, that this was more than just a kiss.

But then he pulled away, mumbling a soft apology.

“I forgot that, um, you didn’t wanna do anything tonight.” It was a lie.

Whatever the truth was, I didn’t think that I wanted to know. So I moved myself off of him, holding my heating pad to my stomach with my injured arm.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He stared at me, looking like he wanted to ask me something, but then pulled out his phone instead.

“I never, um, never showed you those pictures of Morgan from today, did I?”

“Nope.”

So that was how we spent the rest of the evening. Looking at photos of Morgan, and talking about her and how cute she is and how much she looks like her dad.

“I hope my kids are that cute,” I mumbled absent-mindedly.

Peter frowned.

“What?”

“I just…you don’t seem like somebody who’d want kids.”

“What makes you say that?”

Peter shook his head, like he was trying to make sense of things. “Well, um, you seem to avoid holding kids at all cost.”

I laughed a little. “Just because I’m bad with kids doesn’t mean I don’t want them. I’m just…holding out hope that I’ll be better with my own kids.”

He gave me this unreadable look. “I’m sure you will be.”

Suddenly the edges of the heating pad were the most interesting thing in the world. “I just don’t wanna make the same mistakes as my parents.”

“Hey, come on, you know better. And…I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s…you know, better than your dad.”

_I have. I’ve found the one guy on Earth who doesn’t scare me at all, who actually makes me feel safe and okay, and he doesn’t love me back._

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Maybe.”

“Not a maybe. Absolutely.”

“Peter-”

“No, you’re one of the best people I know. And if anybody deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

I bit my lip. I couldn’t say it.

_If anyone could make me happy, it’s you._

I took a deep breath in, trying to clear my head a little. “I’m pretty tired.”

“Do you…want me to stay the night again?”

I looked at him, having every intention to ask him to give me some space for the night, but I saw his big brown eyes and his still-rosy nose and melted a little.

“Please?”

“I’ll go downstairs and change and I’ll be right back up.”

“Sounds good.”

He left, and I cleaned up the living room and reheated my heating pad before getting ready for bed. He came back in just as I was brushing my teeth.

“Sorry I took so long, I was talking to May.”

“It’s okay,” I said through a mouthful of toothpaste. “Gimme a sec.”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, sure.”

I finished brushing and rinsed. “Okay, I’m ready for bed.”

Peter reached for the waistband of my pants, and I was very confused for a moment, and then he tugged at the top of my heating pad.

“You tucked this into your sweats?” he asked, amused.

“Yeah.” I pulled my tank top over it. “It helps with the cramps. Also, it’s warm and it feels nice.”

Peter smiled. “Well, I’m glad somethings helping. Come on, I’m sleepy.”

He looked sleepy, too. His eyelids looked heavy, he was carrying himself differently…

And I couldn’t wait to curl up with him and fall asleep.

“Alright.”

We went into my bedroom, and Peter crawled into bed, lifting the blankets for me to get in with him.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him.

“Yeah, no problem.”

A few minutes passed, and then he said, “Okay, I kind of get the appeal of the heating pad.”

“Why?”

“It’s keeping me warm. It is pretty nice.”

I snuggled in closer. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” he breathed.

His arms were wrapped tight around me, and I slowly drifted off.


	21. that ship sailed away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's gonna be real rough. def a trigger warning for abuse/violence. enjoyyyyy

_Peter_

My phone started ringing pretty early in the morning. Like, sun’s-just-starting-to-light-up-the-skyline early. I would’ve just declined the call if it weren’t for a picture of Mr. Stark and I that popped up on my screen.

MJ squirmed next to me, stirring, so I quickly answered.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“We need you at the base. Pronto.”

“Why- what’s- did something happen?”

“No, I’m calling you upstate at the asscrack of dawn over nothing. Yes, something happened. Can you be here by seven?”

I glanced at the time. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”

“Bring the suit. Get here safe, kid. I’ll see you soon.”

 _Click_.

I started to get out of bed, but MJ was still wrapped around me, face scrunched in her sleep from being disturbed.

Gently, I pulled her arms away, but she slowly blinked her eyes open.

“Hey,” I whispered, “go back to sleep.”

“Where’re you going?” she asked.

“Mr. Stark needs me at the compound. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded sleepily. “Mkay.”

I got out of the bed and tucked her back in, watching her nuzzle into the pillow with a soft smile.

Every cell in my body wanted to get back into bed and kiss her and tell her how much I loved her, but I couldn’t.

I had to go.

My hand lingered a moment on her shoulder before I remembered my deadline, and climbed out her window.

_MJ_

When I woke up, Peter was gone. I had a vague memory of him saying he’d see me tomorrow, but I figured it was a dream until I realized he probably had to go pretty early.

My phone buzzed on my desk, so I got up and checked it.

_Dad: Your uncle and I are on our way._

_Dad: I hope you’re a little less hostile today._

I felt my chest seize up.

_Me: understood._

I cleaned up around the apartment as quickly as possible, and got ready, taking a shower and putting on something I knew Uncle Antonio would like.

My skin crawled the whole time, and my stomach did Olympic-level flips, and all I wanted to do was call Peter and beg him to save me, somehow.

But he was busy. And this was my job. Clean. Play dress up. Mentally reorganize my art portfolio while Uncle Antonio does whatever he wants to me.

This is my job. This is my job. This is my job.

By the time the front door opened, I was sitting on the couch, hands folded in my lap, wearing a silk robe. The apartment was spotless.

“Hello, Michelle,” Dad said, his voice ice cold. “Glad to see you’ve kept the place tidy.”

I took in a breath as Uncle Antonio entered after him. “You clean up nice,” he remarked, eyes on me rather than the apartment.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be in my room, going over some paperwork.” Dad shot me a look that screamed “behave yourself” as he left the room.

So I did. I didn’t fight back today. I was compliant as Uncle Antonio undressed me, as he kissed my neck, as he pinned me to a wall and got himself off. I did whatever he asked.

And I hated myself for it.

\---

Once he was gone, and it was just my dad and I in the apartment, I took another shower and then sat in my room and studied.

The gross feeling in my stomach was eating at me. I kept seeing Peter, teary-eyed, telling me that I should fight back.

Before I could really understand what I was doing, I had my laptop open and was logging into my bank account.

I had eight thousand in savings, just from the ridiculous allowance I got and how little I spent it.

I couldn’t move out on my own. First and last months rent would be at least half of my savings, plus the security deposit. I’d have to get a job this summer, which didn’t bother me, but I didn’t know if Dad would let me.

_Only one way to find out._

I closed my laptop and went to his room, knocking on the open door.

“What do you want, Michelle? I’m busy.”

Alright. A little cold, but I could handle this. “I just had a question.”

“Then ask.” He wasn’t even looking up from his desk.

“Well, I was looking at dorm prices and it turns out that it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus, but I’d need to be working a job or have student loans in order to be able to afford that.”

That got his attention. He looked up, his cold, empty eyes meeting mine. “So then stay here.”

“Well, um, the commute is a lot shorter if I live closer to campus, which means I’d have more time to study and work if-”

“Work will only distract you from your studies.”

I took a breath, measuring my words carefully. “There’s educational value in a job, and it’d be good to have on my resumé. Work experience can be really valuable-”

“You won’t need work experience to take over my position,” he snapped. “You need excellent marks and a degree. You know this, Michelle.”

“Okay, but-”

He stood up and took a couple steps towards me, until he was towering over me.

“Don’t talk back to me, Michelle. You knew what the plan was. Stick to it.”

“What if I don’t want the life you have?” I asked, my voice sounding even smaller than I felt.

The coldness in his eyes was replaced with a burning fire. “It’s not about what you want, it’s about what’s best.”

“For who?”

He raised a hand and slapped me, hard enough that I stumbled back a bit. “You’re an ungrateful brat.”

“But-”

His hand went to his belt buckle, and I shut my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” I said hurriedly.

It didn’t stop him. He undid his belt and pulled it off. “Turn around, Michelle.”

“Please-”

“Turn around!” he shouted, his voice impossibly loud.

I turned around, pulling my shirt off and exposing my back. The belt cracked against my back, and I bit my lip.

“Count.”

“One.”

He lashed me again, the leather leaving a burning stripe across me.

“Two.”

He got to seventeen before my body gave out and I hit the floor. He knelt down next to me, grabbing my injured arm around the bandage and pulling me up. I winced.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

He squeezed my arm, and I bit my lip to stop from whimpering. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good girl.” He let go, and stood up, putting his belt back on. “You know, your uncle was very pleased with you today.”

I didn’t respond.

“Remember, Michelle, this is all for your future. It’s what’s best.”

_For who?_

_Peter_

“I’ve got it from here, kid,” Mr. Stark said, giving me a pat on the shoulder with a gauntlet-clad hand.

I stared at the villain, some Vulture copycat, who was webbed to the ground.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go home. Say hi to your aunt from me. You did good, Spidey.”

I smiled at him, despite the fact that my face was covered by my mask. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He turned back to Knock-off Vulture as I started to swing back towards Queens. “And you. Man, you really could not come up with your own gimmick?”

I had to swing halfway across the city, but I got back to my apartment in time for dinner. I landed soundlessly on the fire escape, opened my window, and crawled in.

_My bedroom door is open. I could’ve sworn I closed it behind me this morning-_

“Uh, hi.”

I let myself fall from the ceiling and turned around, only to see MJ sitting cross-legged on the bottom bunk, sketchbook in her lap and surrounded by pencils.

_Oh, shit._

“What, you’re not gonna introduce me to your alter-ego, Peter?” she asked, voice getting snarky and cold.

“Hey, I-”

“Were you never gonna tell me?”

I stared at her. Her cheek was bruised, her heartrate was starting to jump, her fingers were tensing around the pencil she was holding. God, what had I done?

“I, um, I…the less you know the-the safer you are,” I stammered, pulling my mask off.

“That- god, that is such bullshit, Peter.”

I couldn’t breathe. _I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up._

I was about to lose her, I could feel it.

“Hey, no, listen, I-I am constantly scared that something is gonna happen to May, or-or Ned-”

MJ dropped her pencil and snapped her sketchbook shut. “You fucking told Ned?”

“Well, I- listen, I didn’t tell Ned, he found out, uh, kinda the same way you did-”

Her eyes were welling with tears now. “I told you _everything_ ,” she breathed. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I told you fucking everything. I’ve known Betty for years and she doesn’t know a _goddamn_ thing and-and I spilled my guts to you because I-I was stupid enough to think that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way as I did-”

“What do you mean?” I asked softly.

She looked up at me, eyes filled with fire. I could almost see the smoke coming out of her nostrils. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shook my head.

“God, I- here.” She stood up, and opened her sketchbook, and started ripping pages out and letting them fall to the ground. “You’re so fucking dense, Peter. There was a reason I told you so much and a reason I let myself trust you and a reason I _fucked_ you and-and you’re too goddamn dense to realize that I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”

“Em-”

“No, fuck you, Peter. I fucking trusted you. You lied to me for years about your internship and you told me I was your best friend and you let me tell you absolutely everything-”

My floor was covered in pages of her sketchbook, and they all had one thing in common.

Me.

She’d drawn me. Over and over and over and over again.

“MJ-”

“You’re just as bad as Harry,” she snapped, grabbing her pencils off of my bed. “You’re cruel and you took advantage of me when I- I _needed_ you.”

“I didn’t- MJ, I-”

But she stormed out, my bedroom door slamming shut behind her.

“I love you, too.”

I sank to the floor, sitting in a crouch and crying as I looked over her drawings.

She made me look…a million times better on paper than I did when I looked in the mirror.

She loved me and I fucked it up and now that was…gone.

I’d ruined it.

She needed me and I hurt her.

_MJ_

“I didn’t- MJ, I-”

I left, slamming the door shut behind me. May was sitting in the living room, and turned around on the couch to see me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Thank you for letting me camp out here this afternoon, I-I’m sorry.”

May got up. “It’s okay, MJ. It’s a difficult thing to learn.”

I wiped at my eyes as tears began to fall. “I’m going home. Thank you for-for everything, but I-”

“It’s okay. You have my number if you need anything.”

I mumbled a thank you as I left the apartment.

_Fuck._

_What now?_

God, it was like losing Miles, but a thousand times worse. Because Peter didn’t want to leave me, but he also didn’t trust me the same way I trusted him. And I didn’t think that would hurt more, but it did. It felt like a vase shard was lodged in my chest.

I went back upstairs to my own apartment. Luckily, Dad had left, his coat and shoes and car keys gone. My sketchbook was stashed at the back of my sock drawer, and then I laid down in bed and cried.

I managed to push away the one person I needed. I didn’t mean to need him, but I did and there was nothing I could do now.

There was such a mix of emotions and I couldn’t figure out how to feel. Did I want to punch a hole in the wall or throw myself off of the fire escape?

My phone started buzzing. I declined the call.

It buzzed again, this time with a text. It was a picture, from Peter.

His bedroom wall, covered in my drawings.

I left him on read.


	22. how soon do we forget how we felt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big ass sexual assault warning for this chapter  
> also sorry for posting so much the last couple days but i'm finally on break which means i've spent every free minute writing cuz i missed it

_Peter_

The next couple weeks were awful. MJ wouldn’t look at me at school. In decathlon meetings, she’d acknowledge me, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

Even worse, she slowly got paler and paler, her cheekbones looking more pronounced and eyes becoming more sunken. Bruises peeked out below long sleeves, or started to show through concealer at the end of a long day. She got jumpier, made herself smaller, tried to make herself invisible.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it. Between class and a decathlon meeting, I went down to the office, finding Mrs. Packard’s door, and knocking.

She came to the door and opened it.

“Mr. Parker, how can I help you today?”

“Can…can I come in and talk for a bit?”

She nodded, stepping aside to let me into her office. “Absolutely.”

I took a seat, and she sat down on the other side of her desk.

“I just…I know things are confidential and you might not be able to tell me but…is MJ okay?”

“Miss Jones hasn’t come to see me for the past couple weeks,” she answered. “Should I be concerned?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know. She isn’t speaking to me, but she…doesn’t look well.”

Mrs. Packard nodded. “May I ask why you two aren’t speaking? You seemed to be really close.”

I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. “I, um, I guess I can see why she’s so mad at me. It’s- I kept a secret from her, and it had nothing to do with her and I thought it’d be fine if I waited until…I don’t know, the right time? And she completely opened up to me, and I was trying so hard to help her, and then she found out and she thought I was trying to take advantage of her and she got mad at me and…” My voice started to shake, so I stopped. I couldn’t go to the meeting looking like I’d been crying.

“This…secret. Did you feel comfortable telling her, or were you scared of how she’d react?”

“I wanted to tell her,” I said, “but I kind of couldn’t. Or I wasn’t supposed to. And then she found out anyways and…it hurt her.”

“And now she doesn’t wanna speak to you. Do you think she’ll forgive you on her own?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I wanna talk to her and apologize and work things out, but I’ve already hurt her so much that it almost feels like it’d just be better to-”

“Peter Parker to the library,” MJ’s voice said over the intercom. “Peter Parker to the library, thank you.”

Mrs. Packard gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow. Email me if you want a specific time.”

I forced a small smile. “Thank you.”

I got up and left her office, only to see MJ by the office phone, checking her phone.

“I’m right here,” I said, and she looked up.

“Good. I couldn’t start the meeting without you.” Her voice was stone cold, and she barely looked at me before turning and leaving.

I jogged out of the office, trying to catch up with her. “MJ, can we- can we please talk? I owe you an apology-”

“I don’t care.”

That felt like a throat punch. “One day you love me and the next you don’t care?”

Her whole body tensed, and she turned around, glaring at me. “Don’t. Putting my drawings up on your wall doesn’t fix anything. Talking to Mrs. Packard about me doesn’t fix anything. Staring at me while I’m trying to finish an assignment doesn’t fucking fix anything. I don’t care what you have to say. I’m done. We’re…whatever we were, that’s over.”

She turned and kept walking back towards the library.

I fought back tears and followed her.

\---

The meeting was awful. Anytime MJ looked at me, I was on the receiving end of an ice cold glare.

I’d told Ned about what had happened, but clearly he hadn’t talked to Betty at all, because she looked clueless, glancing back and forth between me and MJ like she was trying to do trigonometry in her head.

“Nationals are in a month, so I expect you all to be studying the materials. Next week, I’ll be quizzing you on the first third of the packages.”

I stared at the package of paper sitting in front of me.

“Is there a problem, Peter?” MJ asked.

I snapped my head up. “No. No, I’m just tired, sorry.”

“Alright. That’s it for today, guys.”

Everyone packed up and started to file out. I hesitated, staring at the pile of paper and wondering how I managed to fuck up so bad.

“Why were you in my room that night?” I asked.

MJ picked up her stuff. “Ask May.”

And then she was gone. Again.

I started to pack up. Mr. Harrington stood by the door, watching me.

“Did you cheat on her?”

“What? No. No, we were never dating.”

He huffed. “Well, she’s acting like you cheated on her, so whatever it is, it was pretty bad.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Harrington.”

I pushed past him and left.

\---

That night, while I was patrolling, I couldn’t get MJ out of my head. I had been lucky enough that she had loved me, the whole time, and yet I’d still lost her.

And I was scared for her. Scared that she was more hurt than she was letting on. Scared that she’d fight back and she wouldn’t call me when her dad shoved back.

I wasn’t much use to New York if I couldn’t get her out of my mind, so I headed back home, stopping a couple levels up on the fire escape.

“No, please, I’m-I’m tired and-”

“Just relax.” The voice was deep and…intensely creepy. I could hear MJ’s whimpers through the glass of her bedroom window.

I looked inside, and saw through her bedroom door to her living room. She was sitting on the couch, one man behind the couch holding her by her wrists, and one man kneeling on the ground in front of her, pulling her panties down from under her skirt. I could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she panicked.

“Calm down, Michelle. It’s what’s best,” said the man behind the couch. That had to be her dad.

MJ squeezed her eyes shut. “Please.”

The man in front of her, the one I assumed was Antonio, ran his hand up her leg. MJ’s face scrunched up in pain.

I couldn’t see this and not do anything.

But I couldn’t barge in there and try to fix it myself. These guys needed to get caught by the cops. If I swung in, I was tampering.

“Karen,” I said, moving away from the window, “call 911.”

“Dialling 911.”

One ring, and then, “911 dispatch, what is your emergency?”

“Uh, my neighbour’s home situation is pretty rough and I think she’s being hurt right now, can you send some cops to make sure she’s okay?”

“Absolutely, can you give me an address?”

_MJ_

_Eyes closed. Breathing regulated. Ignore the feeling. Come on, MJ, it’ll pass._

Uncle Antonio’s hand was rough. His goal was always, I think, to hurt me. And he succeeded. He had to get closer, press his body against the couch to keep my knees apart. I kept pulling at my hands, wanting to push Uncle Antonio off, but Dad had me pinned.

There was nothing left, really. I lost Peter, which means I lost May and Ned and probably Betty. I was living for a plan that I didn’t want, an empty future.

I didn’t really want to live.

A part of my brain told me it was a rash decision, but a large part of it felt like it was a justifiable one. No friends. No hope for the future. Seventeen years of being a plaything, a bargaining chip for my dad’s company.

What was left?

I took a few, even breaths. _It’s okay. The world will keep spinning. Peter will take over as decathlon captain. If there’s anything beyond this life, I’ll get to see my mom again. It’s okay. It’s okay. I can let go._

“NYPD, open up!”

My dad released my wrists. “Take her into my room, I’ll deal with this.”

Uncle Antonio pulled me into my dad’s room, and pinned me down on the bed, getting on top of me.

“What stunt have you pulled now?” he snarled, keeping his voice low.

“Didn’t do anything,” I mumbled. “I couldn’t use my hands.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and then covered my mouth with one hand while he unbuttoned his pants with the other.

My instincts had checked out. I didn’t fight back. I just shut my eyes and tried not to make too much noise when he…hurt me.

I could hear the place getting searched and then the door swung open.

A gun cocked. “Hands off the girl!”

\---

I ended up sitting on the back of an ambulance, a shock blanket around my shoulders, as my dad and my uncle were shoved into the back of cop cars. The detective that asked me a whole bunch of questions was sitting next to me, her pad still open in her hand.

“How long until I can go back upstairs?” I asked softly.

“Your apartment’s a crime scene right now, dear. Do you have anyone you can stay with?”

I hesitated. “I…can make a couple of calls.”

“Would you like a moment to yourself?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

She nodded, giving me a reassuring smile before she walked away. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts.

I called Aunt Addy.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hi, Michelle, I got the call from the police about…are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just need a place to stay tonight, and I was hoping I could stay with you.”

“Of course. I’ll order some food for us. Lemme know when you’re here so I can buzz you in.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Michelle. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you.”

I hung up. The detective saw my put my phone away and came back over.

“Did you manage to find a place for the night?”

I nodded. “I’m going over to my aunt’s.”

“Let’s go upstairs so you can pack an overnight bag,” she said, gesturing. “I’ll make sure nobody gives you crap.”

_Peter_

“Hey, honey,” May said, bringing a mug out onto the fire escape.

“What have I done?”

Our whole block was lit up blue and red, and I could see MJ sitting on the back of an ambulance, shock blanket draped over her shoulders, talking on the phone.

“You did what was best for her. Here, I made you some tea. I don’t want you to get too cold out here, okay?”

I took the mug. “Thanks, May.”

“Do you want me to stay out here with you or do you want a minute alone?”

MJ was walking into the building with an officer.

“It’s okay. I’ll come in.”

\---

“You did the right thing, Peter,” Mr. Stark assured me. “You saved her. That’s what heroes do.”

“I’m just scared I did more harm than good. What if they get out on bail, or the lawyers can’t convict them? What happens to MJ?”

“Worst case scenario, I can help her out, okay? We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you think she’ll ever speak to me again?” I asked.

“I don’t know, kiddo. She’s been through a lot. She probably needs a little space to figure things out.”

I fidgeted with my mask with my free hand. “You’re probably right. I just…can’t stand the idea of never talking to her again. Part of me doesn’t even care if she doesn’t want anything to happen between us, I just miss her.”

“Yeah, I know. Do you wanna come stay at the compound tonight, and we can talk?”

“No,” I mumbled. “I should stay. I don’t know if they’ll wanna pull me in for questioning.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Anytime, kid. Get some rest.”

_Click_.

I let my mask fall onto my bed and stared at the wall.

Some of the drawings of me were from pictures I knew she’d taken. She had a habit of pulling out her phone and snapping a picture when she saw something she wanted to draw. I just didn’t know she’d taken so many.

Some of the drawings, though…I think she drew in front of me. I’m sleeping in a couple of the drawings, studying in a couple others.

How _had_ I been so dense? How had all of this been right in front of me for months, and I didn’t realize she felt the same way?

My room still smelled like her. Honey. It was woven into my sheets and some of my clothes and her drawings.

How was I supposed to deal with this when she was somehow everywhere?

I picked up my phone and started typing out a message.

_Me: I’m so sorry. I had to help you somehow. I love you, I just want you to be okay._

Backspace backspace backspace.

_Me: I love you. So much. So so so much. Please just tell me you’re okay._

Backspace backspace backspace.

_Me: my sheets still smell like you._

Backspace backspace backspace.

_I don’t think there’s any coming back from this, Peter. You’ll just have to find a way to move on._


	23. let me love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all this chapter. the end is gonna. wow i'm so glad i finally got to write it and post it and. yeet ENJOY

_Peter_

I crawled in through the window after a long night of patrolling. I’d checked in on MJ, glancing through her bedroom window before I went downstairs, but she was buried under a pile of blankets. I was too nervous to reach out, so I just went home.

“Hey, honey, how was patrolling?” May called from the kitchen. “You were out for a long time tonight.”

“It was fine,” I answered, pulling off my mask. “Hey, um, can you reach out to MJ? She didn’t come to school today and I’m kinda worried about her.” I slapped the centre of my chest, and my suit loosened, falling off of my body.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll call her once I’m done dinner.”

I pulled on some sweats and left my room, going out into the kitchen. May did a double take when she saw me.

“Are you okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look exhausted,” she said, leaving her post in front of the stove to come over and inspect my face. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

I pulled away, looking down. “No. I couldn’t.”

She sighed. “Alright, keep stirring the spot, I’ll call MJ.”

I forced a half-smile. “Thanks, May.”

I took over dinner, stirring soup, while May sat down in the living room and called MJ. I watched her face as the phone rang.

“Hey, MJ, I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

“I’m…okay, I guess,” MJ responded, voice garbled a little by the phone.

Man, thank goodness for super hearing.

“Have you eaten today? I just made some soup, I can bring some up and keep you company, if you want.”

“I- yeah. Please. That’d be…really nice.”

“Alright, I’ll be up in a few.”

“Thank you, May.”

“Anytime.”

May hung up, coming back into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna bring some dinner up for her. Do you think this soup is done?”

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed a spoon and tasted the soup, then scrunched up her face a bit trying to decide.

“Peter, give it a taste, tell me what you think.”

I grabbed a clean spoon, and tasted the soup.

“It’s really good,” I told her, honestly. “MJ’ll like it.”

May smiled. “Okay. Can you fill a Tupperware and I’ll go grab a book or something for MJ?”

“On it.”

I found a ladle and a Tupperware, and packed up some soup for MJ. May came back with an old poetry book of hers, took the Tupperware, and kissed my forehead before leaving.

I got myself a bowl and poured some soup in, then sat down at the table.

Alone.

But I’d rather be alone than know MJ was alone.

_MJ_

When I opened the door, May immediately threw her arms around me, squeezing me tight.

“Hi,” I breathed.

“It’s good to see you,” May said. “I missed having you around.”

I don’t know what it was, but I felt my chest tighten.

“I missed you, too.” My voice broke, and I started to cry into her shoulder.

“Oh, honey.” She squeezed me tighter, and held me until I slowly stopped crying.

I pulled away, wiping my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s just…”

“You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I get it.” She held up a Tupperware and a book. “You should eat.”

I nodded, giving in. “Yeah, probably.”

\---

May sat with me while I ate, and then watched the news while I read the book she brought for me. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I had the same one. Besides, her annotations were interesting to read.

She and Peter were so similar. You could tell by the way she interpreted poems, and the way Peter analyzed books for our English class. The same unique way of thinking. They seemed to cut straight through to the core of whatever they were reading, pull it apart entirely.

Even their handwriting was similar. Peter’s was a little messier, but the shapes of the letters were the same, they connected some letters but not others…

It was almost like I was sitting with Peter. She even smelled like him. It half broke my heart, half comforted me.

“MJ, you look tired, you should go to sleep.”

I looked up, and I shook my head. “I kept having nightmares last night and they kept me up. I’d rather just…stay up and avoid that.”

She shifted a little, taking a breath. “You know, Peter gets nightmares all the time.”

I frowned. “I’ve never…”

“It’s because he doesn’t get them if someone’s with him. I- you can tell me if I’m overstepping here, but it might help you get some rest if you’re not alone in the apartment tonight.”

Turning my attention back to the poetry, I shook my head. “It’s not your responsibility, May, you don’t have to stay with me.”

“I know but…I can’t help but feel like being alone in this apartment isn’t helping you at all.”

Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. “Okay. Thank you, May.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll go downstairs and get ready for bed, and I’ll be back up in a few.”

I smiled at her. “See you in a minute.”

She squeezed my shoulder and left the apartment.

I sighed, forcing myself to get up and shower and change.

I felt like I was in limbo, waiting for my dad and uncle to either get convicted or not. Aunt Addy and I were both living in fear. If they walked free, we were both in trouble. She’d be stuck with her abusive husband and brother. I’d be stuck with an abusive dad and uncle. It didn’t feel like they would get convicted, even though I knew there was overwhelming evidence. The cops had found tapes of me, from when I was a kid. I hadn’t even known they existed. There was my mom’s will, which specifically stated to give me everything so I could escape my dad. Aunt Addy had voice recordings that incriminated Uncle Antonio. If they got off, by some miracle, my (already limited) faith in the justice system would be crushed.

But their trial was just after I turned 18, which meant I’d be able to collect my inheritance and get out of this apartment.

Until then, I had to pray that Dad’s accounts kept auto-paying the bills so I didn’t get evicted.

Because I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

Sure, there was Aunt Addy, but sleeping on her couch for months wasn’t exactly ideal, especially when she lived an hour away from Midtown.

And I couldn’t ask anyone else. I couldn’t put that burden on Ned or Betty. I couldn’t stay with Peter and May, it’d be too weird.

I finished getting ready for bed, and waited for May.

_Peter_

“I’m gonna stay upstairs tonight,” May announced, the second the door opened again. “I know you don’t like being alone in the apartment-”

“It’s okay. She needs you more than I do right now.”

May’s hands were on my shoulders now, gaze lingering on my face. “Promise me you’ll at least try to sleep tonight?”

“I’ll try,” I promised, forcing a smile. “There’s still some melatonin in the medicine cabinet, right? I’ll be fine. I’d rather you take care of MJ than me.”

She frowned. “Do you need someone to-”

“No, no, I’m fine. Promise.”

“Okay, good.”

She hugged me tight and then disappeared into her room.

_MJ_

May came back upstairs, hair clipped up, wearing the comfiest looking pyjamas I’d ever seen.

“You ready for bed?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Um, you can take my bed and I’ll…take my dad’s or the couch or something.”

“No, no, take your bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’ll…grab blankets and pillows.”

I got up and went to the linen closet, pulling out big, fluffy blankets and a couple pillows. The apartment tended to get chilly.

When I got back to the living room, I found my mouth opening and speaking of it’s own volition.

“Can you…sit with me in my room? Just until I fall asleep? Please?”

May gave me a sympathetic smile. “Of course, honey.”

She followed my into my room and tucked me into bed, then sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked my hair.

It felt like having a mom again.

Slowly, I drifted off, into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

_Peter_

I curled myself around a pillow that night, burying my nose in it.

Almonds and honey.

MJ needed someone, I knew that. And it couldn’t be me, I knew that, too.

But, god, I wished I had May here, just to hear her padding around the apartment or mumbling on the phone in her room.

Before I could stop myself, I was calling Mr. Stark.

It only rang once before he picked up.

“Hey, kid. It’s late, are you okay?”

I took a breath. “I’m just…alone in the apartment tonight because May’s with MJ and…I realized I haven’t been alone at night in a while because I’ve always had May or MJ and…can you please just stay on the phone with me? Just-just until I’m asleep.”

“Yeah, of course, Peter. Do you need me to read you some Dr. Seuss? Morgan loves that.”

I chuckled a little. “No, I’m okay.”

“Alright, well, I’m in my workshop, so I’m sorry if I drop something and startle you, but I’ll be here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course.”

It did help, to listen to the sound of Mr. Stark working. The occasional clang of metal, or hiss in pain.

I didn’t feel so alone.

_MJ_

For the next few days, May stayed over. She’d bring up dinner in the evening, and then stay the night, always stroking my hair until I fell asleep.

I kept taking time off of school, too. I knew the story had spread, and I couldn’t face going back to school, knowing everybody knew the most deeply personal things about me. I woke up with my alarm every morning, and some days I just turned it off and stayed in bed, some days I convinced myself I’d go. I’d get up and get dressed and get my books together before breaking down in tears. One day, I even got as far as sitting in my car in the parkade before I broke down.

I didn’t answer texts or calls from anybody but May.

And it hurt that there were none from Peter, despite the fact that I knew he had to be the one who called the police. I’d seen the flash of red outside my bedroom. Besides, who else would’ve?

I got used to not facing anybody, and then one day, I got a text from May that made my stomach turn.

_May: I’m working late tonight. Sending someone else for the night (with dinner) Sorry :(_

A few minutes after I received that, there was a knock at my door.

I opened it to see Ned, carrying a box of pizza.

“Before you close the door,” he blurted, “I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter how much you hid before, we’re still your friends and we love you.”

I hesitated. “You’re Peter’s friends. Betty’s kind of my friend but-”

“No. We care about you, MJ. So can you please just let me keep you company tonight?”

I sighed. “Yeah, okay. Come in.”

That night with Ned was actually…really nice. We didn’t talk about any of it, but we watched some John Hughes movies and ate pizza, and both of us passed out on different couches in the living room.

\---

The next day, I got a similar text from May.

_May: Working late again. Sent someone with dinner. Take care :)_

Not three seconds later, there was a knock. I opened the door to see Betty, carrying a McDonald’s bag.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I responded, hating the way my voice sounded.

“So, um, I brought fries. And chicken nuggets.”

“Yeah, come in. Thanks.”

We ended up having a good time, too. She caught me up on all the drama I’d missed at school, we theorized about who was going to try to do a backflip at grad. Neither of us said Peter’s name, but we both knew he was totally going to.

By the end of the night, we were both wearing face masks and talking about how glad we were going to be when the school year was done. And just a few minutes after that, we were both asleep, sitting on the floor, leaning again the couch.

\---

May came over again for a couple of nights after that, but then she had to pick up a night shift, and I ended up opening my door to see Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, standing there with a bag-full of Chinese takeout.

We had a good night, too. She didn’t make me talk about anything, but she did tell me about a couple of shitty bosses she’d had before Tony that had been a little too touchy for comfort.

When we were tired of the heavy conversation, she showed me pictures of Morgan. She was around six months old now, and extremely cute.

I fell asleep with my head in Pepper’s lap.

\---

The next night, Tony Stark was at my door, carrying…a lot of grocery bags.

I helped him in the kitchen while we cooked dinner.

And I talked to him. A lot. About everything. I told him about my mom and my dad and my uncle. I told him about Peter. I spilled my guts.

And he let me cry into the dinner he made.

He talked a little bit about his own dad, and the neglect.

I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder, while we watched a movie.

\---

Tony came over again the next day, this time bringing Morgan.

That helped, way more than I thought it would. I didn’t realize how much taking care of someone else could help me get out of my own head.

And I got a little better with kids. Or, at least, Morgan was exceptionally easy and liked me a lot.

She fell asleep in my arms, her head on my shoulder. I was out like a light soon after.

\---

The crew cycled through for a couple weeks, my nights either riddled with face masks and movies aimed at the teenage demographic, or spent confessing my life story and my deepest darkest secrets.

And then one night, everyone was busy.

_May: You can send him back if you want to, I just don’t want you to be alone_

When I opened the door, Peter was standing there, holding a backpack overflowing snacks and wearing his sweater with the “dork” patch.

“I know you don’t wanna see me, but Ned and Betty had a date tonight and May’s working and Tony and Pepper are out of town and-and I needed to see you because I- you wouldn’t look at me when you were at school and I didn’t have a chance then and now you’re not coming to school and-and I need the chance to tell you that I love you, too.”

He was staring at me with wide eyes, breathing a little harder than usual.

I was frozen. It didn’t feel real. I wanted to run into his arms and kiss him and tell him it was all okay, but I was scared he’d disappear the second I touched him.

“Can I…can I come in?” he asked softly.

My throat was dry, so I just moved aside, and he stepped into the apartment. He put the backpack down on the coffee table and started pulling out snacks.

“Um, I brought snacks. All your favourites. And a movie. It’s Pride and Prejudice, the Kiera Knightley one, because May said that one was better and I know you like Jane Austen and-”

He looked at me, all big, brown puppy eyes.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, the way people speak to scared animals. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I was…taking advantage of you or anything. It’s just that the Spider-Man gig puts people in danger and the more you know, the more dangerous it is, and you were in enough danger already-”

“Peter,” I interrupted. “I’m less mad about the fact that you hid your secret identity and more mad at myself for…saying what I said.”

He hesitated, staring at me, trying to put the pieces together. “But you…you yelled at me and…told me you didn’t care. I- I’m confused.”

I took a deep breath. “I told you I loved you and you stared at me like I’d grown an extra head. And I was scared that…that if I let any conversation start, we’d have to have that whole ‘look, I’m flattered, but I’m not interested’ talk and-and that would’ve killed me.” My nose was stinging now, and my head started to ache as I held back tears. “It was just…better not to talk, I guess.”

He didn’t say anything, he just stared at me. I crossed my arms over myself, self-conscious.

“Peter-”

“I love you,” he blurted. “I have for two years and I think I will forever because you’re- god, MJ, you’re beautiful and crazy smart and I love who you are when you let your guard down and actually talk to me and- ask Ned, or Mr. Stark, or May. I can go on about you for hours.”

“I-I love you too,” I admitted softly. “I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t apologize.” He stepped closer. “It’s okay.”

We just…stared at each other for a minute. It felt like something was clicking into place, like we were about to become something incredibly real.

The air seemed to buzz with electricity, like before lightning strikes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

I barely nodded, and he stepped closer and leaned in, pausing just before our lips touched.

I wrapped my arms around him and closed the space, kissing him.

And god, it was an amazing kiss. Maybe it was because I’d gone weeks without kissing him, maybe it was because he’d somehow gotten better at kissing, or maybe it was just because I knew that he was kissing me because he loved me, not because he was trying to get me into bed.

When I pulled away to take a breath, he pulled me into the tightest hug of my life.

“I’m so happy you’re okay.”

I buried my face in his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	24. on a roller coaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know this chapter is rushed as hell but honestly i had to cut like half of it bc the pacing was wayyyy too slow and it was boring.   
> so anyways enjoy bc this is the second last chapter!

_Peter_

The first few weeks after we started dating, MJ had more anxiety than usual. She was constantly worried about being suddenly evicted, despite being told by her dad’s lawyer that autopayments couldn’t be cancelled while he was in custody.

Thankfully, her dad hadn’t been offered bail, so we knew that she was completely free from him for a couple of months before the trial.

She had convinced herself, though, that her dad was gonna get off, so she’d been constantly checking apartment listings, trying to find a cheap studio apartment close to the university.

I didn’t think much of it at first, just tried to help with her anxiety where I could. I didn’t realize exactly how bad her anxiety was until she brought it up right after sex.

We were laying next to each other, tangled up in her sheets, both catching our breath, and then she rolled over and grabbed her phone off of her nightstand.

“What are you doing?” I panted.

“Checking the listing for the apartment right next to NYU.” She swiped her phone open.

“Em, you’re getting a little obsessive.”

“I need to find a place, so sue me for getting a little obsessive.”

“You know May and I would take you in if you needed it for a while. And Mr. Stark could help if rent was steep.”

She sighed, resting her phone on her chest. “I don’t want anybody’s help, though. I kinda just…I feel like I have to do this on my own.”

“But you don’t. And, honestly, in this economy, you might not be able to.”

She paused, and for a second I was terrified that I’d made her mad, but then she put her phone back on the nightstand and turned onto her side, facing me.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“Well, luckily for us, it doesn’t happen often,” I teased.

She laughed, then leaned in and kissed me.

God, it felt good to just kiss her.

“Okay, no more obsessing. Got it. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She got up, grabbed a change of clothes, and disappeared into the hall.

\---

A few days later, I went with her after school to talk to the prosecutors. For the most part, I let them ask questions and her answer, and just held her hand under the table and squeezed when her voice wavered.

But then there was one directed at me.

“Mr. Parker, what did you know about Miss Jones’s home life before the night you called the police?”

I hesitated. “Not…not much. Most of it I pieced together on my own. I knew that…Mr. Jones hit MJ fairly often, that he belittled her artwork, that he-he pressured her to have perfect grades. I knew that he…sort of traded MJ as a sex object to her uncle for some…corporate benefit. I don’t know what exactly. I knew that it was fairly frequent, that MJ had no say in it. I could always tell when something had happened, too. MJ’s entire demeanor would change for a day or two after. She’d have bruises all over, sometimes a couple of cuts.”

“Do you know how many others knew about her home life before the night you called the police?”

I shook my head. “As far as I know, it was just me.”

“And what did you see on the night in question that encouraged you to call the police?”

“I, um, well, our apartments are two floors apart but right on top of each other, so I walked up the fire escape to check on her, see if she was doing okay. When I looked in through her window, her bedroom door was open and I could see into the living room. She was on the couch, and her dad was behind it, holding her wrists. Her uncle was kneeling in front of her with his hands up her skirt.”

“And, due to your understanding of her home life and her relationship with her family, you thought it was appropriate to call the police?”

I glanced at MJ, and she squeezed my hand. “I, um, yes.”

“Did you, after you called the police, worry about her safety?”

I nodded. “I worried about her constantly, but after I called the police, I was stressed that I’d done more harm than good and put her in an even more unsafe position.”

“What make you think so?”

“I- um, I knew her dad would blame her, and probably hurt her, so I was worried that he and her uncle wouldn’t get arrested and her home life would get even worse. I was scared for her wellbeing, both mental and physical.”

“What did you know about the mental toll her home life had on her?”

God, there was so much. “MJ is a very private person, but there were countless nights where I could tell she was…upset. One night, she cried herself to sleep on the kitchen floor. She stopped drawing and painting and making art for a while after her dad had gotten mad at her for working in her sketchbook instead of studying. I could see how hard it was on MJ, but it was like there was nothing I could do to change it.”

The questioning went on for a little longer before the lawyers turned to MJ and asked her one more thing.

“Were you aware of the tapes your uncle had?”

MJ coughed. “Tapes?”

The prosecutors looked at each other, then back to MJ. One of them, a brunette wearing a soft grey pantsuit, leaning on the desk, her voice much more gentle when she spoke next.

“The NYPD found VHS tapes at your uncle’s place. They added a possession of child pornography charge.”

I looked at MJ, trying to gauge her reaction. She looked like she was reeling. She blinked, and frowned, and said, “Are you saying there are tapes of me being…raped?”

I squeezed her hand, again.

“There’s several. The last one is dated November eighth, twenty-ten.”

MJ’s breath was caught in her throat. “There’s tapes of me being raped,” she repeated. “How many?”

The lawyers exchanged another look. “Twelve.”

MJ coughed. “I need- I need a break. Can we take a break? I need-need some water and some- maybe some air.” She stood up too fast, knocking her chair over.

“Em.”

“I’m fine, I just…want- I can’t-”

“I’ve got her,” I said to the lawyers, slipping my arm around her waist and walking her out of the office.

Luckily, the hallway was empty. I let her lean against the wall, and she sank, her back sliding down the wood paneled walls until she hit the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest.

I kneeled in front of her, pushing hair out of her face.

“They taped me,” she whispered. “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, because it’s not like they have souls or anything, but…I didn’t know. Those tapes have been sitting around since I was nine and I didn’t know.”

I kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Em.”

She shook her head, despite the tears gathering in her eyes. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“But I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

She looked up at me, eyes big and glassy.

“You deserve better, MJ, you know that.”

She reached forward, holding my face in her hands and pulling me forwards until our foreheads were pressed together.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

\---

That evening, I made some hot chocolate, wrapped MJ up in a blanket, and sat on the couch with her, watching a movie.

“Hey, I know this is a stupid question, but are you okay?” I asked.

She sighed, leaning into me. “I don’t know. I’m just ready for all of this to be over, I guess.”

“Do you think you’ll be okay to face them in a court room?”

“I have to be. I don’t have a choice. I’ll just…figure it out, I suppose.”

“Em…”

“I’ll be okay, Peter. They can’t hurt me in there. Besides, I have that five grand scholarship from that competition you submitted me for, so if they’re somehow found entirely innocent, that’ll be enough to get me out of the apartment.”

I squeezed her a little with my arm that was looped around her. “As long as you’re feeling okay.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if I start to spiral.”

I leaned in and kissed her. “Sounds good.”

She nuzzled in a little more and took a sip of her hot chocolate. “I know that everything is crazy right now but…I feel so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Because of you.”

I beamed like an idiot. “You make me feel pretty lucky, too.”

\---

And then, soon enough, it was MJ’s eighteenth birthday. I, being a sap, put together a scrap book full of poetry, art, and conspiracy theories that she liked. It had taken a ton of help from May, and tweaking a batch of web fluid to make the best scrapbooking glue ever, but it still felt like not quite enough. I kept feeling like she deserved more.

I found myself at the compound, working in Mr. Stark’s workshop, upgrading an old laptop of mine. By upgrading, I mean replacing most of the interior, building an flattened version of the arc reactor to replace a battery, decking it out, and then making a custom cover for both the keyboard and the lid. By the time I was done with it, it was like a brand new laptop.

The day of MJ’s birthday, a few of us went to dinner. May, Ned, Betty, MJ and I. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts couldn’t make it, but both of them gave me cards to give MJ. We ate dinner, got some cake for dessert, sang _Happy Birthday_ and embarrassed the crap out of her. At the end of dinner, everyone gave her their gifts. Ned and Betty had pitched in and gotten her a $100 gift card to her favourite art supply store, and May gave her a stack of poetry books and a pack of highlighters and pens to annotate with.

“Peter, your turn,” May said with a nudge.

“Mine’s, um, back at home,” I admitted. “The box was a little bulky to bring to the restaurant. Plus, it was kinda personal, and I wanted MJ to open it in private.”

MJ smiled at me, nudging my foot with hers under the table.

“It better not be a huge shipment of lingerie, because I’m gonna have to hear about it,” Betty groaned.

“Hear _about_ it? Honey, I’m gonna have to hear it,” May responded.

“Hey!” MJ and I protested in unison.

Ned, Betty, and May all burst out laughing.

Later, though, MJ waited for me upstairs in her apartment, while I put the finishing touches on my gift to her. Fix a little wrapping here, slap a bow on there, that kind of thing.

The whole way up to her apartment, I was stressing. What if she didn’t like the laptop? What if the scrapbook wasn’t artsy enough? What if I’d gone way overboard?

By the time I knocked on her door, I was starting to break out in a sweat.

And somehow, when she opened the door, I was taken aback a little. At dinner, I’d been careful not to stare at her, just to avoid all the teasing, so this was the first time I was really looking at her all night. Her hair was framing her face, her eyes were somehow bigger and even more sparkly than usual, her lips were just slightly parted and pulling into a smile.

“God, I love you,” I mumbled, leaning in and kissing her cheek.

“Well, hello to you too,” she chuckled, pulling me into the apartment and over to the couch.

I gave her my biggest, poutiest puppy dog eyes, and she sighed, giving in.

“I love you too, nerd.”

I smiled, and then sat down on the couch. “Go ahead, open it.”

She tore open the wrapping paper and opened the box. On top was the scrapbook. She pulled it out onto her lap.

“You made a scrapbook? There’s not enough pictures of us.”

“It’s not of us. Open it.”

She flipped it open, and I watched her jaw fall open. “You-you researched the Van Gogh murder conspiracy for me?” She flipped the page. “And put in Emily Dickenson and-and Keats and-” She flipped the page again. “And you put in stickers from my favourite artists!” She looked at me. “You made this? A full scrapbook of-of conspiracy theories and poetry and art?”

I nodded.

She closed the scrapbook and put it on the coffee table. “You’re amazing, Peter.”

My cheeks felt warm. “There’s…more in the box.”

She looked back into the box, and gasped.

“That’s…my artwork. That was my Japanese cherry blossom piece that I submitted a month ago. Wait, did you steal it from my art teacher?”

I shrugged. “I borrowed it to make the lid and the keyboard cover.”

She pulled the laptop out and looked over it. “Did you custom build me a laptop?”

“Yeah,” I muttered sheepishly. “It-it wasn’t a big deal. I just…repaired and upgraded an old one of mine.”

She opened it, only to see the glowing blue keyboard. “Uh, exactly how upgraded is this?”

“I upgraded to RAM to sixteen gigabytes, doubled the memory, exchanged the battery for a small arc reactor so it powers itself- mmmm!”

MJ had pushed the box aside and put the laptop on the coffee table and pulled herself into my lap, pressing her lips to mine. Her arms slid over my shoulders and wrapped around my neck. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“You’re the best,” she mumbled, barely pulling away enough to speak.

“You deserve it,” I told her honestly, holding her tighter and pushing her back onto the couch. She giggled a little before continuing to kiss me. Her hands moved, sliding under my shirt. I kissed down her neck, and she let out the softest sigh.

“Can we, um, not have birthday sex on the couch?” she asked, sounding a little distracted.

I laughed. “Yeah, come on.”

\---

By the time the trial rolled around, we’d managed to deal with most of MJ’s biggest anxieties. She’d claimed her scholarship from that art competition, inheritance money from her mom, and Mr. Stark had offered her a job at Stark Industries. The terms of her job were up in the air. Sometimes she was an assistant, sometimes she was an interior decorator, sometimes she was a graphic designer. Her salary, however, was pretty darn good for a student.

All of that meant that the MJ I saw the first morning of the trial was a confident one. She was wearing a blazer and everything. We sat down where the prosecutor and investigating officer asked us to, and I slipped my hand into hers, hoping it’d help with any anxiety. To be honest, though, I thought I was more anxious than she was.

That is, until the second her father and uncle walked into the room. She visibly stiffened, her hand tightening around mine.

The prosecutors had pointed out that her uncle was more likely to get a lighter sentence, because he was lighter skinned than her father and it was a pattern they noticed. However, they considered it near impossible for them to get off unless there was some serious corruption and bribery going on.

Either way, there was protection for MJ.

\---

The trial seemed to drag on and on. They brought neighbours to the witness stand, coworkers of her father’s and uncle’s, people we’d expected to see, really. But then a woman nobody seemed to recognize was called to the stand.  

“Can you state your name for the record, please?”

The woman leaned into the microphone. “Andrea Margaret Westbay.”

“What is your relation to the plaintiff?”

The woman looked at MJ. “Michelle is my granddaughter.”

MJ turned and looked at me, seeming confused.

“When did you last see Miss Jones?” the lawyer asked.

“Oh, she would’ve been…three, maybe. Four at the oldest.”

“Do you recall why you lost contact with your granddaughter?”

Ms. Westbay nodded. “Yes, around the time I last saw Michelle, my daughter’s marriage was becoming more and more strained. She called me a few days after the last visit to inform me that she wasn’t allowed to maintain contact with me. I believe that she changed her email and phone number and moved after that.”

“Did you ever try to re-establish contact with Miss Jones?”

“Yes. Once. After my daughter passed.”

“And why were you unsuccessful?”

“Well, it was at the funeral, and I saw Michelle. I tried to go speak to her, but I was blocked by her father. He told me that if I didn’t stay away from her, he’d talk to my employer and make sure I was fired. At the time, I was struggling financially, and had no choice but to obey. After that…I never found another opportunity to reconnect.”

\---

At the next recess, MJ tried to go talk to Ms. Westbay, but her dad walked by, escorted by court officers, and Ms. Westbay avoided MJ.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing MJ’s hand. “I’ll go talk to her. She won’t be scared to talk to me.”

MJ gave me the biggest eyes. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.”

I kissed her cheek, and then headed over to Ms. Westbay.

“H-hi, um, you don’t know me, but I’m Peter. I’m MJ- Michelle’s boyfriend.”

Ms. Westbay held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I just…wanted to ask if I could get your email or-or phone number or something to give to MJ. I think a connection to her mom’s side of the family is exactly what she needs.”

That earned a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

I opened my phone, ready to text the number to MJ.

“It’s nine one seven, eight four three, ninety-eight fifty-eight.”

I typed it in and sent it over to MJ. I could hear her phone buzz in her pocket as she received my text.

“Thanks.”

“Can you tell her that I’d love to see her when this is all over? I want to speak to her so badly, just to see how she’s grown up and…so she knows she still has family.” Ms. Westbay gave me this slightly pained look as she spoke. I realized that she’d lost all connection to the legacy her daughter had left behind, knowing exactly how awful of a man MJ’s dad was.

I smiled. “Absolutely.”

“You seem like such a wonderful young man. I’m glad Michelle has someone like you.”

I glanced over at MJ, who was nervously turning her phone over in her hand. “Th-thank you. I just…hope I don’t screw up.”

\---

MJ and I both had to testify. Honestly, I think I blacked out when I was on the stand. I didn’t remember anything I’d said, but when I sat back down next to MJ, she was glassy-eyed. She rested her head on my shoulder and squeezed my hand.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

\---

Sentencing came around too quickly. The prosecutor seemed confident, but MJ was almost vibrating with nerves.

The jury had been locked in a room for several hours, and when they returned, one man stood up with a notepad and began to read.

“We find both defendants guilty of all charges.”

MJ covered her mouth with her free hand, and squeezed my hand with her other. Each jury member was asked if they agreed, and confirmed their verdict, and then things were handed over to the judge.

When the judge spoke, despite my super-powered hearing, it sounded garbled and distant. I looked over to the prosecutor and investigating officer, confused.

“They both got eighty years,” the prosecutor told me, holding back excitement. “No parole!”

I stood up and hugged MJ, squeezing her tight.

“You’re safe now, Em.”

She cried, but I could tell they were tears of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twenty-four down, one to go...


	25. then you come through like the sweetener you are (epilogue)

_MJ_

Six months after the end of the trial, Peter and I were finally moving into our new place. Andrea, my grandmother, helped us decorate. She and I bonded over many trips to Ikea to get furniture and trips to Michael’s to get art and photos framed. While Peter was in class one day, she and I were attempting to build a drafting table for me.

“Do you think that a white drafting table was the best choice?” she asked, looking through the screws to find the one I needed. “It’s just gonna end up covered in paint.”

I shrugged. “This room could use a pop of colour.”

She laughed, then gasped. “Found it!”

She passed me a screw, and I screwed it into the table.

I heard the door open, and then heard something fall.

“Em! Are you home?”

“Yeah, Andrea and I are in here!” I called back.

Peter came in, arms overflowing with his school supplies, empty backpack on one shoulder, bottom torn open.

“My backpack…broke.”

I laughed, putting my screwdriver down and getting up. “Rough day?”

“You have no idea. Engineering is a rough field.”

“Semester’s almost over,” I said, grabbing some of his notebooks so he could set the pile down without dropping his laptop and damaging it.

“That just means exams are soon,” he sighed. “What time do you have class tonight?”

I checked my calendar. “Not for a few more hours. Should we order dinner?”

“Sounds good. Should I invite May?”

I looked at Andrea, and she nodded.

“I’ll call the Chinese place, you call May.”

In the half-hour before May arrived, Andrea and I finished setting up the drafting table and moved it into the corner of the office opposite Peter’s desk.

“Perfect.”

May arrived, and we buzzed her in, and set up in the living room.

“You guys don’t have a dining table yet?” she asked as I handed her a glass of water.

“No, we do, we just haven’t built it yet.” Peter gestured at the boxes sitting on the floor next to kitchen.

May chuckled. “You guys really are college students.”

“NYU is a university!” Peter protested.

Andrea and May both rolled their eyes.

“They have a point, Peter.” I ruffled his hair. “This is very much the college student lifestyle.”

“But-”

“We’ve ordered from that Chinese place so much this semester, they check in on us if we haven’t ordered for a few days to make sure we’re still alive.”

He deflated. “When do we get to be real adults?”

May snorted. “Uh, not for a long time, honey.”

The Chinese guy arrived, so Peter buzzed him in and paid, then brought the bags of food over.

The four of us ate and binge-watched the first few episodes of a new Netflix series, and then May and Andrea left, leaving Peter and I to our devices.

After we cleaned up from dinner, I stared at the boxes on the floor in our dining area.

“I know it’s late and we should sleep, but…”

“I’ll get the screwdriver,” he blurted excitedly, kissing my cheek before hurrying to the office.

He came back a few moments later with the screwdriver, and we started unpacking the parts and building. We ended up multitasking, too, quizzing each other to prepare for finals.

It was honestly really nice. The apartment was coming together, we were almost done the semester, our relationship was going great, I felt safe. It was one of those moments where just everything was perfect and I felt peaceful and happy.

The feeling was new, but much appreciated.

Peter looked at the directions. “These last few steps are really simple. Do you wanna go get the Christmas tree and we can set that up too?”

I got up, kissing him on the forehead before I left the room.

The Christmas tree was still in a box sitting next to Peter’s desk in the office.

On the desk, right at the edge next to the tree, was a small velvet box.

I frowned, picking it up and going back out towards the dining area.

“Hey, Peter? What’s this?”

He looked up, and immediately looked panicked.

“Oh, shit, I forgot that I didn’t wrap that.” He jumped up, coming over to me. “Um, it was meant for Christmas, but you can open it now if you want.”

“If it’s my Christmas present-”

He took it out of my hand and set it on the coffee table, then came back over to me and put his hands on my waist.

“How about we set up the Christmas tree and then you can take a peek and decide if you like it, and then if you don’t, I can exchange it for something else before Christmas?”

“Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Peter chuckled. “You have a very specific sense of style that is hard to pin down.”

I grinned. “I suppose that’s true. Okay, deal.”

He leaned in and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back, humming a little against his lips. He pulled away and tucked some hair behind my ear.

“Alright, let’s get this tree up.”

We pulled the tree into the living room and assembled it. I was pretty much in charge of keeping it balanced while Peter did all of the heavy lifting and maneuvering. He was in charge of helping me assemble lights and decorations.

By the end of it, our living room was lit with a warm glow, and the tree glittered with all of the decorations.

I turned around to say something to Peter, and he was standing behind me, with the velvet box in his hands.

“Are you proposing to me?” I teased.

He shrugged. “Consider it a proposal to propose. You know, later down the line.” He opened the box, revealing a promise ring. Gold band, black dahlia flower with a tiny diamond in the centre.

“Oh my god, Peter,” I breathed.

“It’s a dahlia, like-”

“Like the murder. Oh my god, it’s gorgeous.”

He smiled, his face lit up by the warm glow of the Christmas lights, eyes sparkling as they met mine. “You like it?”

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

“Of course, Em.” He put the ring on my finger, and then put the box on the coffee table and wrapped me in a tight hug. “Merry early Christmas.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! all of the support throughout writing this was wonderful and so encouraging and I cannot express enough how much the comments made me smile and how much seeing this story surpass partners in fighting crime and princess and buttercup in my stats meant to me. i'm gonna take a break from writing for a while, but i'll likely be back w another depressing fic eventually. thanks y'all! :)


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